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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27162757">To the future we wish for</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping'>prototyping</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Azure Moon route but she lives, Canon-Typical Violence, Dimigard Week (Fire Emblem), F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Lots of pillow talk, Minor Character Death, Prompt Fic, Romance, they have good supportive friends</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:20:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,684</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27162757</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of war, Dimitri and Edelgard rebuild their territories, their lives, and－most uncertainly－whatever it is that still lingers between them.</p><p>(Or, a collection of moments as the two figure out what they are and what they want to be. Written for DimigardWeek2020.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Edelgard von Hresvelg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>148</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Dimigard Week</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. friends in the right places</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>Day 01 - Longing</p>
</div>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You look like you want to ask me something.”</p>
<p>Dimitri was still settling into his chair when the comment made him pause. He shot a guilty look across the room, but Byleth still had his back turned.</p>
<p>“It’s not necessarily a question,” Dimitri replied slowly. “To be honest, I would like your opinion on a certain matter, but… You are of course under no obligation to answer. And I don’t expect you to feel compelled to guide me in any way, but I would appreciate－”</p>
<p>“Dimitri.” The archbishop turned around, tea tray in hand and an easy smile on his face. “Relax. I didn’t think it’d been so long that you would become this formal again.” He crossed back over to the desk and sat in the large chair behind it, placing the tray between them. “If you start using titles, I really will start to worry.”</p>
<p>The mild joke helped. Dimitri’s spine became a bit less rigid as he leaned into his seat, chuckling sheepishly. “I’m sorry, my friend. It’s… a strange matter in and of itself. I feel selfish springing this on you so suddenly.”</p>
<p>“I doubt the King of Faerghus came all the way to Garreg Mach just to ask me something in-person,” Byleth countered casually. “But I’d be more flattered than insulted if that was the case.”</p>
<p>“I daresay your insight alone would be worth the journey. But no, this is… something I had hoped to discuss while I’m here. I thought your opinion would be the most objective.” Perhaps the <i>only</i> objective one.</p>
<p>Byleth nodded. “There’s no need to stall if you want to get it off your chest now. Tell me what’s on your mind.”</p>
<p>The familiarity of the invitation was even more reassuring. The two of them had many such talks in the past, particularly during the war and especially in the weeks following the events at Gronder Field. Often over tea in the early morning, sometimes in the dead of night in Dimitri’s quarters or the cathedral or wherever Byleth found him when the grief and the loathing became too much. Whether they talked comfortably face-to-face like now or sat silently side-by-side in the dark, Byleth always found the right thing to say with the simplest of words.</p>
<p>
  <i>Tell me what’s on your mind.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>You can talk about it, if you want.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I’ll listen when you’re ready.</i>
</p>
<p>Now felt like one of those times, albeit with a much less crushing topic. The patience in Byleth’s expression was the same, as was the casual warmth in his tone that indicated concern but no pressure.</p>
<p>It put the last of Dimitri’s doubts to rest. “It’s about El－Edelgard,” he amended, having felt so at ease as to accidentally loose her nickname. Byleth’s expression didn’t change, but he glanced up briefly as his hands continued to move around the tray. “It’s nothing to be concerned about,” Dimitri added quickly. “On the contrary, we’ve been getting along well. Very well.”</p>
<p>His gaze dropped to his lap, where he laced his gloved fingers distractedly. There was no way of explaining the full extent of what he and Edelgard were. They were a lot of things, and yet there were still pieces missing, gaps in their relationship since parting as children that might never be fully healed, let alone restored. Even to someone like Byleth, who knew more about their history than most, it was a long story and a complex web of details, of emotions and words and what-ifs and well-intentions that Dimitri couldn’t say he totally understood himself. Hence why he was here.</p>
<p>“I’m… not sure how to say this, other than bluntly,” he ventured tentatively, after a short pause. “I had thought myself too far removed from the past to ever think this way again, but… I’ve come to realize… that isn’t quite so. It is－selfish of me, perhaps, when I was so sure I wouldn’t earn her friendship again after…” He stopped, realizing he wasn’t being <i>blunt</i> at all.</p>
<p>Clearing his throat, he relocated his hands to the arms of his chair and forced his gaze up to Byleth’s chin. “What I’m saying is－I’m－quite positive I’m in love with her, Professor.”</p>
<p>That old nickname was a slip, as well. A telling one, perhaps, as he felt like a wayward schoolboy all over again, looking for guidance in the one he trusted most.</p>
<p>This time, Byleth didn’t raise his eyes. Not so much as a flicker of emotion crossed his face. “You make it sound like you just recently figured it out,” he mused. When Dimitri didn’t respond, Byleth fell still. He looked up, the lightest of creases furrowing his brow. “...Did you?”</p>
<p>Dimitri stared back. “Yes?” he ventured tentatively.</p>
<p>Byleth blinked. And then returned to spooning sugar into one of the cups. “Ah,” he said simply.</p>
<p>“Wh－ What are you－<i>Byleth?</i>” Dimitri stammered. “Are you implying you’ve known?”</p>
<p>The archbishop tilted his head in a noncommittal gesture. “I suspected. I didn’t understand at the time, but looking back now, the way you talked about her at the academy was… more in tune with how you’ve described her recently.”</p>
<p>That gave Dimitri pause. He wasn’t sure whether to feel embarrassed or relieved, but after the initial shock and confusion he realized he shouldn’t have been that surprised. Despite Byleth’s lack of emotion when they first met, and his lingering habit of appearing apathetic more often than not, he was good at reading people. Dimitri, especially.</p>
<p> “Well… I suppose that makes this somewhat easier.” Dimitri had to make a conscious effort not to grip the chair too tightly as he went on, “I haven’t told her. I’m not sure I should.”</p>
<p>A teacup was placed before him, smelling faintly of chamomile. Byleth sat back in his seat as he took up his own tea. “Do you want to?” he asked.</p>
<p>Dimitri hesitated. That was a complicated question for more reasons than the one he was about to voice. Of course he wanted to－if there was a chance that she could feel the same… And yet, if she didn’t, what would she think? Would that shatter the relationship they had so carefully, precariously rebuilt in the last few years?</p>
<p>He picked up his tea, taking comfort in the gentle scent.</p>
<p>“I believe I told you before,” he said, “that our parents were married for a time.”</p>
<p>“Your father and her mother,” Byleth recited as he stirred his tea bag without looking up. “But neither of you found out until much later.”</p>
<p>Dimitri nodded. Paused. “It… doesn’t strike you as strange, then? Technically speaking, we’re…”</p>
<p>“Friends who care about each other. I think that takes precedence over any technicalities.” The professor sipped at his tea cautiously, and then finally met Dimitri’s eye. “By the strictest definition, she’s your sister. Or she was. Are you bothered by that fact, or are you bothered because you <i>think</i> it should bother you?”</p>
<p>Dimitri winced. As usual, his friend cut swiftly and accurately to the chase.</p>
<p>“It hasn’t affected how I feel about her either way,” he admitted. “But I would be lying if I said I haven’t felt some… conflict on the issue.”</p>
<p>Byleth’s stare softened. “You feel guilty about it,” he surmised. It wasn’t a question.</p>
<p>“To summarize it, yes. It feels… selfish of me, wanting more than what we have and asking her to overlook the past for my own convenience.”</p>
<p>For a moment Byleth gazed out the large window on his left. He was perfectly still except for the steam rising from his cup. “I don’t think Edelgard is someone you need to worry about clinging to the past. Whether it’s public opinion or personal morality, she makes her own path. You know that better than anyone. She might have changed her methods, but that much about her has remained the same since the war, I think.”</p>
<p>“That is so,” Dimitri agreed slowly.</p>
<p>“And while I’m not exactly qualified to give advice on this subject, I don’t think it boils down to just <i>your</i> convenience, either.” Byleth propped his cheek on his fist, looking much less like the established head of the Church and more like the mercenary-turned-professor that Dimitri knew best－always willing and eager to help, but sometimes struggling to comprehend the more complex social dynamics. “It’s not like you’d be asking her for a favor,” he pointed out. “From the way you phrased it, I’m guessing you want to move forward with her.”</p>
<p>“That… would be ideal, yes. But I’m assuming much in hoping for such a thing. I don’t even know if she’s interested in such matters. It’s no secret that she’s considered to be… ‘married to her work,’ as they say.”</p>
<p>“Like you.”</p>
<p>“I suppo－”  Dimitri stopped, arching an eyebrow as Byleth smiled. The look was contagious; Dimitri chuckled defeatedly. “As usual, I can’t argue with you.”</p>
<p>“It’s good you didn’t come to argue, then.”</p>
<p>“Indeed not.” He finally sipped at his tea, the warmth of it fulfilling where the taste was lacking. “But I only speak hypothetically,” he said after a moment. “I know nothing of her current suitors, if there are any. She would very well marry for political advantage if it helped her goals, I believe, but personally speaking…” He shook his head with a low sigh. “There is much about her I don’t know these days.”</p>
<p>“Do you intend to ask her?”</p>
<p>“I must, if I hope to change anything.” It wasn’t quite an answer. Byleth didn’t push.</p>
<p>“Well, you have her ear, so that’s a start.” He paused. “For what it’s worth, Dimitri… You’ve come so far. Not just as king, but personally, too. Everything you told me you wanted to accomplish, you’ve done it, and you’ve become even stronger along the way. I’m not the only one who thinks so, either.” His bright eyes stared thoughtfully down at his desk, darting back and forth as he considered his words before rising to Dimitri’s face again. “What I’m saying is, there’s no need to doubt your worth or your intentions. You’re not selfish for wanting this－as your friend, I can say with full conviction that you deserve to be as happy as the next person. More, in my opinion.”</p>
<p>It was rare for Byleth to say so much at once. Along with the heartfelt weight of his words, it left Dimitri speechless for a long moment.</p>
<p>As always, Byleth respected his silence. He merely took another sip of his tea, taking no notice of the king clearing his throat and blinking rapidly.</p>
<p>“I… Thank you,” he managed finally. He hoped he was imagining the bit of strain in his voice. “That means more to me than you know.”</p>
<p>Byleth gave a light nod and another smile. “I’m glad to see you coming around to this subject on your own, too. I was afraid you might deny yourself companionship on purpose.”</p>
<p>Dimitri had certainly considered it. His lack of free time and blossoming feelings for El weren’t the only reason he’d repeatedly pushed aside Gustave’s concerned insistence to find a queen soon.</p>
<p>“But if Edelgard decides she doesn’t want the same thing as you,” Byleth went on, tugging him out of his thoughts, “you should know that says nothing about your worth, either.”</p>
<p>Dimitri nodded. “Yes. I am prepared for that.” He anticipated it, even, but he kept that thought to himself. “If that happens, I may have to take advantage of your kindness again, old friend,” he joked. “I’m sure you would know just what to say.”</p>
<p>“I’ll pray it doesn’t come to that,” said Byleth good-naturedly. “But you’re always welcome, Dimitri, no matter the occasion.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. maybe it's the wine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>Day 02 - Ghosts</p>
</div>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The words on the page have started to blur by the time Edelgard finally takes a break. She leans back in her chair and runs her hands over her face, withholding her annoyed sigh due to present company.</p>
<p>“Tired?”</p>
<p>“Exasperated,” she answers flatly. She stares at the high ceiling of her office for a long moment as she frowns. “This is our sixth correspondence in as many months and all they’ve managed to do is circle back around to their initial demands.” She leans forward and laces her fingers atop the desk. “If they’re trying to annoy me into conceding… well, they’ve succeeded at the first part.”</p>
<p>Across from her, Dimitri smiles grimly at his own stack of papers. His hands, lap, and the couch on which he sits are all full with them. “They do sound more aggressive in writing than in-person, don’t they?”</p>
<p>She hums irritably. This is precisely why she prefers to conduct business face-to-face. Few are the nobles with the gall to speak to her with the tone she detected in these letters. Likewise, it’s harder to lie in-person. Unfortunately, neither the Emperor of Adrestia nor the King of Faerghus can afford the time to address every single squabble directly, and many of the back-and-forths are left to the complication of trying to sort things out in writing.</p>
<p>“Perhaps it’s time I proposed a more formal meeting,” she says thoughtfully. “A conference, even—the leaders of each nation can attend, along with the most problematic nobles. We’ll address everything at once.”</p>
<p>“That would be time-consuming,” Dimitri points out, but it doesn’t sound like an objection.</p>
<p>“No more time-consuming than these backhanded squabbles.” Edelgard waves dismissively at her mess of a desk as she stands. “The real issue is finding an opportune time. I don’t care about the lords so much—they can make the time if they really want to be heard—but it’s hard enough for you and I to be in the same place at once, to say nothing of Claude.” Moving to the table by the window, she bypasses the selection of tea bags to go for her third cup of coffee tonight.</p>
<p>“Such a conference may be best held on neutral ground,” he proposes, “in which case we would need to consider the archbishop’s availability, as well.”</p>
<p>With her back to him, Edelgard doesn’t try to hide her frown. She dumps two spoonfuls of sugar into her cup before answering simply, “I suppose we would.”</p>
<p>Dimitri’s pause is telling. She hopes he’ll keep his thoughts to himself, but of course he doesn’t. “Have you spoken with him lately?”</p>
<p>A defensive snap rises in her throat. She bites it back and pours a steady stream of milk until the coffee is nearly as white as she is. “Not much, no.”</p>
<p>“El.”</p>
<p>It takes some effort not to slam the creamer back onto the tray. She’s not sure which annoys her more: that he thinks he can get to her so easily, or the fact that he can.</p>
<p>“You have nothing to worry about,” she manages coolly, still not looking back at him. “He and I may disagree on some things, but there’s no bad blood.”</p>
<p>She’s sure it’s all one-sided, anyway. Byleth was as eager as Dimitri to put the past behind them all; Edelgard is the only one with any lingering doubts, she’s certain. She remains wholly unconvinced that the Church still has any place in the world they’re trying to create, even if it’s a comfort knowing it’s in the hands of her responsible former professor these days. She’s come to better understand the role it plays among the people, but she still doesn’t like it, nor the possibility of it being abused again in generations to come.</p>
<p>Those are the reasons she would give if pushed to answer. The fact that it’s a little more personal than that—that there’s still a sting of betrayal sitting in her chest, even this long after the war’s end—is neither here nor there. The past can hurt all it wants, but she refuses to let it slow her down.</p>
<p>By the time she turns around, her expression is controlled again. A glance is all she needs to determine that Dimitri’s wearing <i>that</i> look again—something soft, something open and vulnerable that he seems to reserve for these rare private moments just like her nickname—but she refuses to linger on it before moving back to her desk. </p>
<p>“Can I assume I have your support with this proposal?” she asks, once again all business.</p>
<p>Another slight pause is the only sign that he’s debating saying something else, but in the end he only replies, “Yes. I’ll send a letter to His Grace in the morning, if you would like to handle Claude.”</p>
<p>She <i>wouldn’t</i> like to, really—Claude’s games of roundabout are sometimes the most annoying of all—but it’s a fair trade, so she nods. “Very well.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div>Two hours later, Edelgard sets her quill down again. This time her quiet sigh makes it out, but a glance at Dimitri confirms he’s finally drifted off where he sits. She studies him without really meaning to, noting the exhausted droop in his broad shoulders, the light frown on his face. A few more strands of his hair have fallen loose from its ponytail to rest gently on his cheek.<p>She tugs her gaze away with a quiet hum. Despite how peaceful he looks now, the memory of their clash at Gronder is still fresh in her mind even after two years. She’s not sure she’ll ever forget the bloodlust glinting in his eye, the mad desperation in his movements as he attacked her and the terrible grin that split his face when he wounded her.</p>
<p>Her fingers graze over her side, just above her hip, where she still carries the scar.</p>
<p>She doesn’t hold it against him—she’s the last person who should be nitpicking about grudges—but the contrast still shakes her sometimes. In truth, the earnesty of his shift after that, the memories it triggered in her, was what began to loosen her iron fist. It took a lot more than that for the two of them to finally side together, but there’s no denying Dimitri was the starting point for her, just as Byleth was for him, perhaps.</p>
<p>She straightens her stack of letters and sets them aside. All that’s left is to fill in the appointed date and time, but she and Dimitri will speak on that later. He and his entourage will be in Enbarr a few more days, so there’s still time to chip away at their ever-looming to-do list.</p>
<p>Leaning forward into her folded hands, Edelgard relaxes and rests her eyes for a long moment. She might sleep in an extra half hour in the morning, maybe just a small breakfast before she meets with the representatives from the merchant guild—</p>
<p>A hiss of air breaks her from her thoughts. She looks up to see a deeper frown on Dimitri’s face now—more like a scowl—but he otherwise remains unmoved, by all appearances still asleep. As she watches, his lips pull tighter as his hands curl into fists on his thighs. His posture suddenly looks stiffer, as if tense.</p>
<p>Slowly, she stands and moves around the desk. His chest is rising and falling faster, his breaths through his nose loud and sharp. When she stops in front of him, she catches a whine low in his throat—or maybe it’s some smothered speech. She takes all of this in expressionlessly, even as sympathy winds tight in her chest.</p>
<p>Another hiss, this time with an unintelligible murmur. Edelgard decides to stop it there. In his place, she would want intervention before the screams start.</p>
<p>She reaches forward, hesitates, and then decides to touch his shoulder. “Dimitri.”</p>
<p>No response.</p>
<p>She gives him a light shake and speaks a little louder. “Dimi—”</p>
<p>Her arm goes numb as his fingers clamp around her wrist. She pulls back sharply on reflex and his grip tightens, making her wince as her bones begin to creak. Her free hand pries at his fingers, but she might as well try ripping a brick from a wall.</p>
<p>An edge creeps into her tone even as she keeps it calm. “Dimitri, <i>wake up</i>. You’re sleeping.”</p>
<p>He’s breathing through his mouth now, hard and heavy with his chin towards his chest. Edelgard tries again to pull free, slowly this time, and a gasp escapes her as a sharp pain shoots all the way up to her shoulder. He’s going to break it at this rate—</p>
<p>
  <i>“Dimitri!”</i>
</p>
<p>He starts, bolting upright against the couch’s back with a weak snarl and a wide-eyed stare. He nearly pulls her onto her knees, but she digs in her heels and barely manages to stay upright. The crushing pressure on her arm lets up and she takes a swift step back.</p>
<p>“El?” Dimitri stares at her—rather, he seems to stare through her, his face still clouded with sleep.</p>
<p>“You were mumbling,” she says coolly. “Are you alright?”</p>
<p>“Ah…” Clarity flashes in his eye and he looks aside, shamefaced and grim. She takes the chance to flex her fingers as subtly as she can manage, trying to get the feeling back in them without drawing his attention. It’s better that he doesn’t know what he almost did. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”</p>
<p>She plants a hand on her hip and cocks an eyebrow. “You’ve nothing to apologize for. And my question was an honest one.”</p>
<p>It takes him a moment to realize what she means. He nods. “Yes, I’m fine. I didn’t think…” He trails off, frowning, and instead finishes with, “Regardless, it was thoughtless of me to fall asleep here. I do apologize for that.”</p>
<p>It takes effort not to sigh at him. She’s well aware of his self-deprecating tendencies, but she’s also aware that pointing them out won’t do anything for his self-esteem. As much as it irritates her to hear someone put himself down needlessly—an annoyance born of sympathy, not arrogance—she knows he needs a voice more delicate than hers to reach him effectively.</p>
<p>Even so, simply dismissing him would be cruel in its own way.</p>
<p>“I can’t fault you for being human, Dimitri. Rest if you need it. Especially if you’re prone to nightmares when fatigued.”</p>
<p>Despite her gentler tone, he winces at her observation. He glances at her briefly, and then down at his knees. “Yes,” he says slowly, “you’re right. If you don’t need anything, I’ll excuse myself, then.”</p>
<p>“Please do. I’m about to retire, as well. And don’t worry about the mess, we’ll just pick up where we left off tomorrow.”</p>
<p>Dimitri nods again, looking a little more lucid this time as he climbs to his feet. He retrieves his cloak from the nearest chair and folds it over his arm, but not before Edelgard notices the tremble in his hands.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div>Whether the incident with Dimitri stirred her old ghosts, or it’s likewise a byproduct of her long days and late nights recently, Edelgard also finds herself jolted awake a couple evenings later, her skin clammy and chest heaving. She stares up at the canopy of her bed for some number of minutes, listening to her sharp breaths and the pounding in her ears until it all finally slows down again. Silence follows, but it’s heavy and threatening.<p>Before she can lie there too long and start to drown in it, she pulls herself together and rises, binding her hair and donning a casual gown more appropriate for wandering the palace halls. Normally Hubert would save her the trouble, inevitably roused by her cries in his room next door and offering her whatever she needed to calm down, even if it was just his silent presence. After three years, his absence is no easier to bear, nor any closer to being forgotten.</p>
<p>Burying the sting of that reminder, as well, she makes her way down to the lower floor by herself, unquestioned by the posted guards she passes on the way.</p>
<p>The kitchen is dark when she enters, so it doesn’t occur to her to check if anyone else is present. The cabinet by the door yields a candle and tenderbox and she’s still attempting to convince the wick to catch when a voice speaks.</p>
<p>“El?”</p>
<p>She starts so badly that she drops the flint. It clatters off the counter and across the floor in time with her rapid pulse as her eyes strain against the shadows.</p>
<p>
  <i>“Dimitri?”</i>
</p>
<p>He’s a hulking silhouette at the long table in the middle of the room, seated on a stool. Cursing under her breath, Edelgard fumbles and finds the flint, but waits for her shaking fingers to calm before turning back to the candle.</p>
<p>“What are you doing here?” There’s a tired snap to her question that isn’t entirely intentional. Why on earth is he sitting in the dark?</p>
<p>“I… couldn’t sleep. I’m sorry for startling you.”</p>
<p>The candle catches at last, throwing a small bubble of light across Edelgard’s hands. She slips her finger through the loop of the candle holder and turns to face him.</p>
<p>Dimitri really does look like he just woke up—not that she can really talk, she supposes. His unbrushed hair hangs around his face, free from its usual short ponytail, and like her he’s in more casual wear than he would usually be caught in. A teacup and kettle sit in front of him.</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” she replies, even as her heart continues to race from that scare. “You could have at least bothered with some light.” She sets the candle down on the table as she slides onto the empty stool beside him.</p>
<p>His usual gloves are also gone, Edelgard realizes—as is his eyepatch. It’s the first time she’s seen him without it. She takes care not to stare, but her gaze is naturally drawn to the scarred eyelid and the glimpse of a milky white sheen beneath it. So he didn’t actually lose the eye.</p>
<p>She quickly redirects her attention to his steaming cup. “Chamomile?” she guesses, detecting the flowery scent in the air.</p>
<p>His head bobs. “I’ve always heard it’s supposed to help with sleeping trouble, so I drink it on some nights.” She notices that he doesn’t say whether or not it’s successful.</p>
<p>“Chamomile,” she repeats thoughtfully. “It can also cause nightmares in some cases. Are you certain that doesn’t happen to you?”</p>
<p>Dimitri’s face is hard to read. Watching him, she notices just how tired he looks.</p>
<p>“It’s rare,” she adds, crossing her arms to grip her elbows, “so probably not. But it’s something to be aware of.”</p>
<p>He still says nothing. After a moment she swivels on the stool to climb back to her feet. “At any rate… I’ve found a glass or two of wine to be more effective, if you’d like to join me.”</p>
<p>His gaze is heavy on her back as he doubtlessly considers those words and what she’s admitting. In the end, he only answers quietly, “I would, thank you.”</p>
<p>A minute later Edelgard returns with a bottle and two glasses. She fills both generously and pushes one over to him.</p>
<p>For a long minute they each sip in silence. Dimitri keeps his gaze down, offering no further explanation for his presence, nor even small talk about the quality of the wine.</p>
<p>While she’s the type to respect others’ privacy, Edelgard isn’t one to turn a blind eye where she can at least try to help. Figuring he’ll make it clear if he doesn’t wish to talk about it, she finally ventures,</p>
<p>“It seems you’ve been sleeping poorly lately.”</p>
<p>He glances at her. No objection.</p>
<p>“I’m aware this is ironic coming from me, but you should be honest, Dimitri. If returning to Adrestia is bothering you—”</p>
<p>“It isn’t that.” He straightens his posture a little, frowning down at his glass.</p>
<p>“Is it me, then?”</p>
<p>“No,” he says quickly, almost cutting her off. Something seems to ripple in the shadows on his face before he adds, “It doesn’t matter where I am.”</p>
<p>She gives him a moment, but there’s still no sign of reluctance on the subject. “Do you have this trouble often?”</p>
<p>“It isn’t that I don’t sleep at night. Most of the time. But…”</p>
<p>“...The dreams still make it unpleasant.”</p>
<p>His stare is piercing. She holds it.</p>
<p>“So,” he says finally, quietly, “the past haunts you, as well.”</p>
<p>“Is it really so surprising?”</p>
<p>Dimitri appears to choose his words carefully. “I know you aren’t above remorse, El. But yes, it is surprising to think we share that weakness. You’ve always struck me as… stronger than such things, I suppose.”</p>
<p>It’s not the first time he’s complemented her unexpectedly. Like before, she’s not quite sure how to feel about it, but she can tell it’s genuine and that’s enough to make the corner of her mouth lift slightly.</p>
<p>Only for a moment. “I’m not sure I would call it a weakness,” she replies, watching the red liquid swirl thoughtfully at the bottom of her glass. “Not completely. We’ve both done things that we aren’t proud of for the sake of ideals rooted in the past. But we’ve grown from it, as well, and are now on better paths.” Looking up, she finds him still watching her. “Likewise, you find the strength to get up every morning and keep going. I can tell you won’t be swayed from your path now. A weakness would do just the opposite.”</p>
<p>Again, he says nothing for a few beats. Only after he’s drained the last of his wine does he muse, “I’d thought these nightmares… their voices… to be a punishment to carry for the rest of my days. A reminder of the weight of my sins. But perhaps that isn’t all there is to them.”</p>
<p>Edelgard gives a light nod. “On their own, I don’t believe our memories are strictly a good or bad thing. It’s what you do because of them, or in spite of them, that really matters. But… that isn’t to say it makes them any easier to bear. I know that.”</p>
<p>“No,” he agrees, voice gruff. “Even good intentions can make it more difficult in the end.”</p>
<p>She steals a glance at him as he refills his glass. Is it the wine prompting these blunt comments of his? Or did his bitter memories leave him so shaken tonight that even his tongue loosened? For a moment she’s surprised he would say these things to her, of all people—but thinking on it a moment more, she wonders if she’s the only one he <i>can</i> talk to so familiarly. In this regard, at least.</p>
<p>Whatever the case, this is the most she’s heard him speak of his past outside of his mad ravings on the battlefield. It’s rare for him to talk about himself, period.</p>
<p>Maybe it’s the wine or maybe she’s also shaken, but it makes her want to do the same, for once.</p>
<p>“Yes… When you returned my dagger just before our final battle, you certainly didn’t make my path any easier.” She catches his eye. He looks uncertain. With a hum and a small smile she also pours herself a second glass. “Why did you do it?”</p>
<p>Dimitri exhales slowly. “I didn’t know you had forgotten. I said what I did because, like the first time, I meant it. Even if your road was separate from mine, you deserved to walk it, to pursue the ideals you believed in.” He touches his lips to his glass, but appears to rethink it and lowers it again. “And… I gave you the dagger for the same reason I did as a child.”</p>
<p>When he doesn’t elaborate, Edelgard can’t tell whether he’s being deliberately obtuse or he actually thinks that’s a sufficient answer. How is she supposed to interpret that? <i>Is</i> there anything to interpret, or is she overthinking it?</p>
<p>Maybe that’s the wine, too.</p>
<p>“And then you gave it to me again,” she reminds him. “A third time.”</p>
<p>“I did. Although I apologize for having no words to go with it.”</p>
<p>No words, perhaps, but it meant something for him to return it at all. He’d also cleaned his blood off the blade first, and despite the stiffness in his left arm to this day, he hasn’t given so much as a hint of resentment since then.</p>
<p>Edelgard examines him openly now. “Would you have, had I been awake at the time?”</p>
<p>For a long pause Dimitri stares down into his drink. The hard lines of his face look softer in the candlelight, the frown on his mouth and furrowed brow almost gently thoughtful.</p>
<p>“I would have repeated myself, most likely. Cut a path to the future you wish for, and I will rise up to meet you there… as a foe if need be, but as a friend if you are willing.”</p>
<p>She thinks about that dagger, presently upstairs beneath her pillow. Resting her cheek on her fingers, she replies with a trickle of warmth in her tone, “Well, even if you didn’t say it, you fulfilled your promise all the same.”</p>
<p>Dimitri shoots her a look as he tilts his head and Edelgard silently curses herself. Definitely the wine.</p>
<p>“That’s the first time I’ve heard you imply such a thing.” He sounds genuinely surprised, not at all teasing or skeptical.</p>
<p>She straightens up in her seat, forcing her mild smile back into a neutral look. “I don’t drink with my enemies,” she points out curtly. In the corner of her eye, he smiles.</p>
<p>“No,” he answers with unabashed fondness, “indeed you don’t, El.”</p>
<p>For a couple minutes they drink in silence. As Dimitri reaches for the bottle again, he says somberly, “I still wonder what would have become of us, had things not turned out the way they did.”</p>
<p><i>Things.</i> What things? Thales’ deep-rooted schemes? The Tragedy of Duscur and the murder of the Imperial children, the catalysts that set them each on their paths? The war?</p>
<p>Edelgard exhales heavily into her glass. She shouldn’t be getting so riled up by his casual ambiguity, and yet—</p>
<p>“Although,” he muses, “perhaps we would have ended up where we are now, more or less. Leading our nations as best we can, on friendly terms.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps.”</p>
<p>Would they have remained in touch through the years? Surely. Would they be closer friends than… whatever they are at present? She can imagine that easily enough. Their friendship as children felt so natural, so genuine, back before they knew how political relationships have a tendency to operate.</p>
<p>Would they each be wed by now? Dimitri, most likely, as his father’s only son. Edelgard, maybe, depending on the benefits of the union. Or would she perhaps have had the opportunity to marry for love over politics, once her eldest brother took the throne? Or, if she and Dimitri had never parted with such finality—if her feelings as a young girl never changed—</p>
<p>She sets the half-empty glass down with a bit more force than necessary. Enough wine.</p>
<p>“Thinking like that won’t get us anywhere.” She’s not sure whether she’s speaking to Dimitri or herself. Maybe both.</p>
<p>He nods. “True. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful for things as they are, however. I just can't help thinking how we might have changed… or how we might have remained the same, rather.”</p>
<p>Edelgard gives a noncommittal hum. “We would have grown up at some point. Just maybe not as soon as we did.” Either way, it isn’t worth entertaining thoughts of what could have been. She’s done mourning for the past.</p>
<p>But then why are her thoughts so determined to link the scarred man at her side to that bright-eyed boy of a life long gone?</p>
<p>That’s her cue to leave, probably.</p>
<p>She slides off her stool. “But we’re grown up now, with plenty of grown-up responsibilities. And that means getting enough sleep to tend to them in the morning.” Her expression is softer than her tone when she glances at him. Dimitri catches it and chuckles and it’s probably the wine that draws her attention to his crooked smile so intently.</p>
<p>They walk back together. Little is said before they arrive at the door to his guest quarters. “Sleep well,” Edelgard tells him with a businesslike nod. “I can’t have you nodding off again in the middle of negotiations.”</p>
<p>“Of course. Thank you for the company, El.”</p>
<p>A pause, another nod. She’s just turned away when he speaks again.</p>
<p>“El.”</p>
<p>Even when she turns back, Dimitri hesitates. The silent weight of his gaze is almost enough to make her fidget. Almost.</p>
<p>“If we… Had I not been the King of Faerghus, nor you the Emperor… No, even if we were…” Uncertainty clouds his face, but he continues, “I know it doesn’t matter now. But I want to know—had we continued as we were… had I eventually tried courting you properly—”</p>
<p>
  <i>Properly.</i>
</p>
<p>Sensation flutters in her chest. She can’t tell whether it’s warm or cold, it simply <i>is.</i> </p>
<p>“—do you think you might have felt the same, eventually?”</p>
<p>Eventually.</p>
<p>As if she didn’t already all those years ago.</p>
<p>Edelgard masks her uncertainty as she always does, this time with a forced smile that she doesn’t feel. “You’ve had too much to drink, Dimitri.”</p>
<p>He blinks at her, and then glances aside thoughtfully, as if thoroughly considering that. “Maybe so.” A beat, and then, “I’m sorry. You did say it’s no use thinking about such things.” He reaches for the door. “Forget I asked. Goodnight, El.”</p>
<p>She feels uneasy watching him go. It’s too similar to back <i>then</i>, when he bared his heart on his sleeve in the only way he knew how and she failed to give him an answer.</p>
<p>For the first time that she can remember, the sting of regret makes her act impulsively.</p>
<p>“I might have,” she blurts.</p>
<p>He stops.</p>
<p>It seems to take him forever to turn back around. Edelgard fights the warmth in her face, going so far as to avoid his gaze entirely.</p>
<p>“It’s impossible to say for certain, of course,” she says coolly, a little quickly. “But it would have been one possibility.”</p>
<p>When Dimitri doesn’t respond, and a glance up reveals his expression to be unreadable, she immediately goes from self-conscious to flustered.</p>
<p>“Don’t read into it too much,” she snaps, but her voice wavers. “I’m speaking hypothetically, as you asked.”</p>
<p>“I won’t,” he assures her solemnly, but he’s smiling. “But I’m… It makes me happy to hear that.”</p>
<p>Happy?</p>
<p>“Even though it makes no difference now?” she wonders, genuinely confused.</p>
<p>Again, he hesitates. That damnably neutral look returns to his face. Quietly, he asks, “Does it not? Truly?”</p>
<p>She shouldn’t have said anything. No, even before that, she shouldn’t have loosened their tongues with that damn wine.</p>
<p>“It can’t,” she insists. “But you’re inebriated and you aren’t thinking straight, anyway. Don’t say something you’ll regret.”</p>
<p>“It’s everything I <i>haven’t</i> said that I regret, El.”</p>
<p>That hangs in the air for the longest pause yet. Edelgard stares at him, at the pained look in his eye and the tightness at the corners of his mouth, while pride and pain and fear scrabble desperately to hold her own expression together.</p>
<p>She’s the first to look away. “Dimitri...”</p>
<p>She expects an objection, an explanation, <i>something</i>, but apparently he’s thinking clearly enough to know he can back her into a reply if he simply waits the awkward silence out. Finally, less firmly than she intends, she says just as quietly,</p>
<p>“You needn’t say anything. It’s all in the past, after all.”</p>
<p>He takes a small, cautious step closer. “But what if it isn’t?”</p>
<p>She’s never heard his voice sound so gentle. Not since it’s grown this deep, anyway.</p>
<p>It doesn’t change anything. Just like when he stirred her memory the day before he took Enbarr, it’s too late for it to matter. The past is set and she can’t pretend to change it, not even for him.</p>
<p>She wants to step back, pull away, but she forces herself to stay rooted to the spot and within arm’s reach of him, if only because anything less would show weakness. “I told you. I’m not her. The girl you knew—”</p>
<p>“The girl I knew grew up. You said it yourself: sooner than she should have, but she’s here. Different, but… still someone I admire.” His gaze is so focused, so <i>warm</i>, that Edelgard finds herself at a loss for words. She’d thought his affection too warped and blackened and steeped in the memory of the dead to show so plainly and selflessly as this.</p>
<p>“El didn’t die,” he tells her. “She sharpened her pain into a blade and cut the path she believed in. She stuck by her ideals no matter how much it hurt. She became the strongest person I know, even if she had to harden herself as well as her resolve to do so.” Dimitri still refuses to look away, regarding her openly with the admiration he spoke of. “If you meant so much to me,” he nearly whispers, “as the girl who taught me to dance, when we were still so young… how could you be anything less to me now, as the amazing woman who stands by my side with my same desire to protect the future of this country?”</p>
<p>It’s almost too much to take in. Edelgard knew he respected her, still cared about her to an extent, but a part of her always suspected it was obligation—as an old friend, a worthy adversary, even family if that’s how he’d come to view her, but that look in his eye and the weight in his voice and the implication in his words don’t strike her as any of those things.</p>
<p>She hates the way her breath shakes as she tries to sigh. She hates her speechlessness even more. “I...”</p>
<p>“Maybe it is too late for it to matter. But never again do I want to stay silent when I should speak. Had I simply talked with you years ago…” Dimitri shakes his head with a rueful smile. “No—I doubt it would have changed anything. But after all that’s happened, at the very least I can be honest with you.” His smile fades. “And... if honesty is <i>all</i> you desire from me, I will accept that, as well.”</p>
<p>Edelgard closes her mouth so tightly that her lips sting. Why is he bringing <i>desire</i> into this? Why would he try to guess what she wants for herself when even she can’t say for certain?</p>
<p>She hasn’t thought about <i>want</i> in a long time. It’s always been about need—what she needs to do, what she needs to change. It’s never been about her, but the world at large. Even the war’s end couldn’t reshape that frame of mind so easily.</p>
<p>So why would he choose the middle of a miserable night when they’re both intoxicated to talk about something as abstract and complicated as what Edelgard <i>wants?</i></p>
<p>She exhales sharply, frowning and exasperated. “What exactly do you expect me to say to that?”</p>
<p>“Whatever you want. Or nothing at all, if you wish.”</p>
<p>She feels the mild urge to slap him. He’s either very good at this or utterly terrible and she can’t tell which.</p>
<p>If she says nothing, it’s just their childhood all over again. Maybe he’ll come to her in another fifteen years and say something similar.</p>
<p>She stalls a little more, one last time. “This isn’t only about me. Speak plainly, Dimitri: what is it you want <i>now</i>, in <i>this</i> reality?”</p>
<p>For the first time during this conversation, his confidence appears to waver.</p>
<p>Only for a moment.</p>
<p>“I want us to keep healing, El. Until we’re like we used to be.”</p>
<p>There it is again, his tendency to cling to the past. She shakes her head, but before she can argue, he adds, “We can’t change who we’ve become. Nor would I want to. But I haven’t given up the hope that I’ll get to see your old smile again—or that one day you’ll come to trust and confide in me like you did back then.”</p>
<p>Her face grows warm again and this time there’s no hiding it, standing almost chest-to-chest with him like she suddenly is. While it’s a little embarrassing to hear him speak so casually and openly about such things, it doesn’t overshadow the other sensation flooding her veins and taking her breath away until she almost feels lightheaded. She wants to be annoyed by the fluttering feeling, but something about it is almost… relieving. Comforting, even, despite the sharp spike of doubt that digs at her an instant later.</p>
<p>“How do I know this isn’t just the wine speaking?” she asks quietly.</p>
<p>“Ask me again in the morning.”</p>
<p>“You leave in the morning,” she reminds him.</p>
<p>Dimitri barely pauses. “Then stay with me until then.”</p>
<p>Her eyes widen. Before she can decide whether to be offended or not, the implication in his words catches up with him and he looks equally surprised.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” he says hastily. “That wasn’t— Perhaps my judgment’s clouded, after all.” He rubs his good eye with the heel of his palm, grumbling. “I just meant— I was going to suggest another drink, or—talking like we were before, not… That sounded terrible. Forgive me.”</p>
<p>With him distracted, Edelgard has time to smother her amused smile and consider her response. “Well,” she says finally, slowly, “if that <i>had</i> been a proposition, I admit it would have been a good one.”</p>
<p>She’s a little disappointed that it wasn’t. It would be a lot simpler than what he’s actually admitting.</p>
<p>He looks mortified. The color in his cheeks probably mirrors her own a moment ago. “At—at any rate,” he stammers, and she can’t deny she likes watching his control slip, “I did mean what I said before. Although… I see how the circumstances might…” He frowns. “I’m sorry, this really wasn’t the way to go about such things, was it?”</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t call it ideal,” she agrees. Even so, she doesn’t actually doubt him. She can blame the wine or his lack of sleep or whatever other excuse she can come up with, but in her heart of hearts she knows he’s as earnest as he’s ever been. The drinks probably just gave him the push he was looking for.</p>
<p>“...You were the only one, you know.” She crosses her arms loosely. “It wasn’t as though I had time for such things during the war, of course, but… Every time there was talk of a political union, every time someone showed any interest in me of that sort… I wondered the same thing you do now: what I would do if I met that boy again. Assuming he had survived and didn’t despise me as the Emperor.”</p>
<p>After all these years, she still doesn’t have a definitive answer.</p>
<p>Dimitri remains silent. Edelgard sighs again, lightly, as her gaze falls to the side.</p>
<p>“I don’t know if we can ever be the same as we were, so I won’t make any promises.” She bites the inside of her cheek. “But… you mentioned gaining my trust. I admit it doesn’t come easily to me, but I hope you’ll believe me when I say there are few whom I trust as much as you these days.” She resists the urge to shift her weight or otherwise fidget as she adds, “I don’t know what smile you’re talking about, but… who knows. Maybe you’ll see it again.”</p>
<p>If anyone can get it out of her, the odds are most likely in his favor.</p>
<p>Dimitri breathes out, a soft sound that she shouldn’t notice as much as she does. “I look forward to it. In the meantime, I’ll work on my tact, and find time to discuss such things when my faculties can’t be called into question.”</p>
<p>She recognizes his words for what they are: a casual offer to end this conversation now, on her vague agreement to try for… something. To try. He isn’t pushing for a more direct answer. He seems genuinely happy with this much and somehow she can believe that he is.</p>
<p>In other words, he’s offering to part in the same manner they did so many years ago, hopeful but uncertain.</p>
<p>Edelgard looks up at him. Meeting his gaze feels so natural compared to most other people; there’s no sense of competition between them, no attempt to stare the other down and dominate the exchange, no political aggression. It doesn’t feel like he’s trying to read or probe her. She can hold his gaze longer than she would other friends’ and allies’ without it feeling awkward, even.</p>
<p>He’s one of very few people whose gaze actually puts her at ease, she realizes.</p>
<p>It helps her speak up at last, even as her heart feels like it’s about to burst from her chest.</p>
<p>“Maybe I should stay until morning, after all.”</p>
<p>Everything about him goes still. He watches her, clearly waiting for her to follow it up with a teasing jab or a smirk or something else to indicate she’s joking.</p>
<p>When she doesn’t, he blinks, hesitates a little longer, and then promptly nods. “Well—if you’d like, then— Shall we return downstairs?”</p>
<p>“I’ve had enough to drink,” she says simply.</p>
<p>And those drinks are surely what give her both the idea and the confidence to reach up and take his face in her hands, just like those drinks can be the only reason he gives so readily beneath her touch and leans down to meet her.</p>
<p>He tastes faintly like that damn wine. He feels softer than she expected, from the cautious pressure of his chapped lips to his large hands settling lightly on her waist. Despite the alcohol and that ridiculous Crest of his, there’s obvious care in every movement he makes, slow and tentative as though she might change her mind and shove him away at any moment—or, more likely, as though he could get too rough if he isn’t careful.</p>
<p>A few curious questions buzz in her mind—is this his first kiss, should she stop now, what is he thinking as he pulls her flush against him—but before long, conscious thought is a thing of the past. There’s only his touch and his warmth, his gentle enthusiasm and his slurred voice on her skin as he kisses her eagerly, hungrily, as though it’s a desire long denied and not just a drunken impulse.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. in what we (don’t) say</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>Day 02 (bonus) - Scars</p>
</div>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Do they still hurt?”</p>
<p>The question is soft, as though he might agitate the old wounds with his voice if he isn’t careful.</p>
<p>“No.” She holds her breath without thinking, awaiting the inevitable, the questions she’s been dreading.</p>
<p>Dimitri’s fingers glide down her arm, over her side, calloused but surprisingly gentle after the bruises they surely left on her hips and thighs just a little bit ago. Every time they pass over one of the lines marring her skin, something inside her twists a little tighter.</p>
<p>Edelgard planned what to say before now—more or less, if drifting between telling him everything and telling him nothing counted as a plan—but all those words are locked in her throat now, scared and weak and reluctant to dredge up those memories, clouded further by the wine and adrenaline still clinging to her tired mind. Or maybe she’s afraid of tainting him with the truth, considering he was the light that guided her through it all. Her best memories aren’t meant to mix with her worst.</p>
<p>His rough palm rests on her thigh, his thumb sweeping in light, tender circles. He kisses her warm forehead.</p>
<p>“I see.” He kisses between her eyes. “Good.” Down her cheek, back to her mouth, and his lips are soft and chaste as they catch hers, not at all like the feverish kisses he explored her with before, nor the hungry bites with which he marked her throat and shoulders and a few other places.</p>
<p>The question never comes. Even though his hands keep moving, tracing and touching every scar he finds, he doesn’t ask, just like he didn’t recoil when he first saw them.</p>
<p>Edelgard knows her relief probably shows as she holds him close, kissing him deeper and roaming her hands over his toned chest, but for now she pays her pride no mind. Her blood is buzzing again, desire heating every inch of her skin, and every move Dimitri makes drives her previous worries far from her thoughts for another day. For now there’s nothing worth her attention beyond his hands on her body and his tongue in her mouth and how good and warm and right his skin feels, how satisfying his weight when he moves on top of her.</p>
<p>And when he takes her again, that gentleness giving way on both sides as they lose themselves in one another as much as they’re able, she can pretend the growl in his voice is just lust, and the tremble in his hands isn’t anger.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. the first step</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>Day 03 - Mercy</p>
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          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>interrupting your regularly scheduled messy romance with a flashback chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Why did you spare me?”</p>
<p>Dimitri wasn’t surprised that she wasted no time in getting to the point. Edelgard didn’t shy away from him, either, her gaze firm and her back straight as she stared him down, expecting a straight answer.</p>
<p>He returned the favor. “Because there was no reason not to.”</p>
<p>Her eyes narrowed. Whether she thought him a liar or a fool, he could only guess. “Did our conversation that day mean nothing to you?” she asked coolly. “Or did you think I was lying when I said we could never coexist with our separate ideals?”</p>
<p>“Not lying, no.” Dimitri turned aside, placing his hands on the railing and gazing out at the city, still sleeping beneath the early dawn. It was as much a gesture of trust as anything else; he was exposing himself by standing as he was, unarmed and even lacking his armor. Edelgard had been stripped of her weapons days before, but her bare hands were hardly useless. “I just hoped you were mistaken.”</p>
<p>She watched him a moment more before following his gaze, snorting softly. “There is perception, Dimitri, and then there is blind optimism. The difference will get you killed.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps one day. But I don’t think that’s the case this time.”</p>
<p>“...I didn’t think winning the war would go to your head so quickly.”</p>
<p>He looked at her. “It isn’t that I’ve forgotten the words we exchanged that day. On the contrary, they gave me hope.” He hesitated, mouth tightening as he recalled his frame of mind at the time. Even now, it was difficult to be near her without whispers of doubt and grief surfacing in the back of his mind. He did not regret his choice, nor did he suspect that he had misjudged her intentions, but her list of sins was still a long one. No longer than his own, he figured, but he had yet to forgive her entirely.</p>
<p>“I chose to believe that your path was right in your eyes,” he said quietly. “I still believe that, even if I don’t agree with you. And so... I didn’t want things to end in such a black-and-white manner if I could help it.”</p>
<p>She deserved better than to be written away in the annals of history as simply <i>wrong</i>. The history books wouldn’t have told of her ideals, only the blood on her hands. They wouldn’t have recorded the good she sought to bring about, only the evil she had performed on the way there. They wouldn’t remember Edelgard the person, who had done so much for the world she wanted to protect, but only Edelgard the Emperor, power-hungry and cold.</p>
<p>She wasn’t wholly one or the other. Dimitri knew that. She was both, the bloody result of intention clashing with ambition. He had walked that same fine line, would have been similarly smothered in the pages of history had victory been hers. Maybe that was why－part of it, anyway－he was so desperate to bring her back from that stubborn ledge. If <i>he</i> could be set right, after all, when he had once sunk to depths much darker...</p>
<p>“I believe what you want is right, El. That you truly mean well for the people－and that your heart hurts for those you had to sacrifice. But there’s no need to cut that part of yourself away just to make yourself stronger. Not anymore.”</p>
<p>For the first time since clashing in Enbarr, something other than apathy or disdain crossed her face: unadulterated surprise flickered across her bright eyes and parted her lips, far too openly for her to hide it. After a couple beats she tried anyway, glancing down at the ground until her features were rearranged, controlled again.</p>
<p>“What would you know of such things?”</p>
<p>Dimitri smiled sadly. “More than you think.”</p>
<p>For a long minute neither of them said anything, each buried in their own thoughts. At last he straightened up, arms falling to his sides. “I won’t impose upon you any longer today. But I hope you’ll consider what I’ve said.”</p>
<p>Edelgard’s face was back to being unreadable, but he thought there was something searching in her gaze as she watched him. Or perhaps that was more foolish optimism.</p>
<p>As he turned to go, Dimitri paused mid-step to face her directly. “I have no intention of forcing your hand either way,” he assured her. “Sparing your life could hardly be called mercy if it was only for my benefit.”</p>
<p>“Then why? Tell me truthfully,” she pushed. “To be honest, I find it hard to believe your resolve wavered at the end. I saw no such hesitation in the way you fought.”</p>
<p>He shook his head, his wistful smile returning. “You overestimate me, El. I’m not so cunning.” The look faded to one more serious as he considered his words. “You would probably find my reasoning naive, but… for one, I truly don’t want to lose you. Not when I’ve found you again after so long.”</p>
<p>She said nothing. Either she had prepared herself this time for any surprises, or she had foreseen such a softhearted answer.</p>
<p>“As for the other… our conversation that day made me realize something important.” His hands fisted at his sides, the left a little weakly. “This isn’t a world I can change on my own. Merely possessing the intention is only the first step. You, however, have proven you can do it.” He searched her eyes hopefully. “Now help me do it right.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. show me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>day 04 - strength</p>
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          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I ended up bumping the rating to M, just to be safe! nothing explicit, but you know what's going on lmao.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“This is rare,” Dimitri comments when he finally feels her stir.</p>
<p>Edelgard makes a disgruntled noise, a scoff or a snort or something of the like. “It’s freezing,” she counters flatly. “You’re warm.” Her arms tighten around him and she presses her face between his shoulders, her nose and cheeks notably colder than the rest of her.</p>
<p>He breathes out a sleepy chuckle. Even with the two extra blankets, as per her usual request, the Faerghus chill is still too much for her. He reaches behind himself to rest his hand on her bare thigh, stroking it fondly.</p>
<p>“This is the worst of it, El. If you can make it through the tail end of winter, the rest of the year is easy.”</p>
<p>She pushes even closer at his touch, her soft curves flush against him in search of more heat. “That doesn’t help me now,” she mutters.</p>
<p>He slides his palm back and forth along her skin, from hip to knee. “My condolences, Your Majesty.”</p>
<p>She only <i>hmphs</i> in response, but then hooks her leg over his hip. “Keep doing that,” she murmurs against his skin.</p>
<p>They lie there in silence a little longer as he obliges.</p>
<p>Dimitri keeps an ear out for sounds in the corridor, just in case. He gave orders not to be disturbed until later in the morning, but that wouldn’t stop the likes of Gustave from entering in the event of an emergency or high priority. Being caught with the Emperor in such a state wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen, but this isn’t how he wants the matter to become public.</p>
<p><i>If</i> it becomes public.</p>
<p>He pushes the thought aside again, intent on discussing it when they have more time and awareness to do so thoroughly, and not the morning after her long journey. For now, he’s content to waste away another hour or two just like this, enjoying the lull in their otherwise endless schedules.</p>
<p>When Edelgard shuffles in place, he glances over his shoulder. “Shall I stoke the fire?”</p>
<p>“No need.” She doesn’t elaborate, but her softer tone brings a smile to his face.</p>
<p>“You see? You’re adapting already.”</p>
<p>“If only. Although I’d rather not adopt that unnatural body heat of yours.” Dragging herself up his back, she sets her chin on his shoulder. “You do well enough keeping us both warm as it is.”</p>
<p>“Let us hope you never become lost in the frozen wilderness, then.”</p>
<p>She huffs against his neck, but only rests her head against his. If her lack of a comeback didn’t betray her exhaustion, the dead weight of her limbs would.</p>
<p>“Are you feeling alright, El? It isn’t like you to wake so late.”</p>
<p>For a moment her soft, noncommittal hum is her only response. “The journey from Enbarr hasn’t gotten any shorter. And then you keep me up half the night. Some of us tire like normal people, you know.” The smile in her voice undermines her attempt at a chiding tone.</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t have known it last night.”</p>
<p>“Of course. When have I ever shown weakness in front of you?”</p>
<p>Dimitri leans back to catch her eye. “Never. Which is precisely why I worry that you’re overworking yourself.”</p>
<p>The sharp rise of her eyebrow speaks for her: <i><b>You</b> would lecture me on such a thing?</i></p>
<p>“More than usual,” he amends.</p>
<p>“It’s unavoidable, as you well know. Just count yourself fortunate that I spared an evening for you.”</p>
<p>With a grunt of a laugh he hooks his fingers behind her knee, rolling onto his back and tugging her on top of him. She gives a mild hum of protest, but allows him to hold her there.</p>
<p>“It really has been too long if you’re saying such things,” he remarks. “I thought us to be well past denying anything these days.”</p>
<p>Edelgard holds his gaze for a few beats before dropping hers to his chest. “It isn’t denial,” she says slowly. As indirect as the words are, and as true as he knew them to be even before she said them, they still flood him with a warm wave of relief and affection.</p>
<p>He cups her face in one hand as gently as he can manage.</p>
<p>“I know. It wasn’t my intention to criticize.”</p>
<p>She tilts her head thoughtfully against his palm. “You should consider being more critical. At least I would know it came from an honest place, with good intentions.”</p>
<p>His thumb brushes along her bottom lip as he frowns. “More trouble with your allies?”</p>
<p>Her nose wrinkles at the word. Despite her obvious irritation, he finds it endearing. “Nothing new, if that’s what you mean. But it’s starting to…”  She rubs circles into his shoulder distractedly. “We’re running in so many of the same circles, over and over. It’s maddening, some days.”</p>
<p><i>And I’m tired,</i> the far-off look in her eyes seems to say.</p>
<p>His heart goes out to her. He knows well what it means to change direction so abruptly, to struggle with keeping to the chosen path on darker days, and she’s doing her best to work with the authority and limits she has.</p>
<p>“I know,” he repeats quietly. “But you’ve been spectacular, coming as far as you have. I know you’ll find your way.” He brushes her long hair behind her shoulder. “...And perhaps this is strange coming from me, as well, but there is no weakness in resting, or in leaning on others. Nor does it imply a lack of resolve. I learned that the hard way.”</p>
<p><i>I hope you don’t</i>, he wants to say, but he wonders if she already has.</p>
<p>When she doesn’t answer, Dimitri runs his fingertips over her shoulder blade. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to preach. I’m not advising you as a leader－you already best me in that regard, anyway.” The corner of her mouth twitches, prompting him to smile. His compliments always seem to affect her－and <i>only</i> his, as far as he’s aware. “I only want what’s best for you, as…” He searches for the right word, but then only settles for, “...someone who cares.”</p>
<p>That not-smile of hers appears to quirk slightly before she smothers it. “I’ll take heart in those words. But this isn’t a matter of trust as much as responsibility.” She pushes herself up a little, her palms on his chest. “There are some things I must prove first. To others, but to myself, as well. I must, if I want to rebuild the Empire as I envision.”</p>
<p>“You will. Of that I have no doubt.”</p>
<p>Edelgard snorts gently. “Coming from any other noble, that sort of easy praise would be unquestionably disingenuous.”</p>
<p>“To be fair, I don’t believe any other noble knows you quite as well as I do.”</p>
<p>“Certainly not enough to blindly agree with me.”</p>
<p>“I’d hardly call it blind.” His hands are still moving, following the dip of her spine in small caresses. Ever so slightly, he feels her arch against him. “I’m simply confident.”</p>
<p>“In what?” Her tone isn’t a skeptical one. Her eyes are suddenly more focused, more intent on his face. She’s definitely pressing herself against him now.</p>
<p>“Your ambition. Your dedication.” His voice lowers. His hands move back up to cup her face. “Your strength.” He feels her shift again. “You’re unstoppable when you want something, El. I know that.”</p>
<p>He leans in towards her waiting mouth, but she slips out of his loose grasp and sits up, straddling his waist. The layers of blankets slide from her narrow shoulders to bare her pale skin to the morning light. By now he’s memorized－intentionally, unintentionally, even he can’t say－the inhumane scars that map her body, enough that his gaze no longer lingers and his anger, while still simmering somewhere low and deep, isn’t obvious.</p>
<p>In contrast, the fresh bruises on her hips and wrists, the splotches and marks scattered across her throat and down her chest to her stomach, stir a different heat inside him.</p>
<p>“Most nobles wouldn’t consider that a good quality, either,” she points out. There’s a velvet-soft warmth to her tone, fond but firm, like Edelgard herself. “If I didn’t know better, King of Faerghus, I would suspect you of flattery.”</p>
<p>He rests his hands on her sides, his thumbs tracing her hip bones. It took them a while, but she no longer flinches or tries to hide her body from his sight, even when he looks her over as slowly and appreciatively as he does now.</p>
<p>“Flattery would imply I’m exaggerating.” His fingertips press a little harder into her skin. Her knees tighten on his sides. “But I admit, my intentions weren’t entirely innocent. If my words pleased you in any way, I succeeded.”</p>
<p>She traces some muscles in his chest, head tilted as though in consideration. “Your attempts at seduction still leave something to be desired. All the same… you may continue.”</p>
<p>Dimitri sits up, sliding her forward until she’s seated on his hips. With her sharp gasp in his ear and his heartbeat already thundering, he takes his mouth to her slender neck. His kisses are gentle and light as he retraces one of his paths from last night, knowing full well this sort of teasing will frustrate her before long.</p>
<p>“You－are the strongest－person I know－El－” he whispers between each one, and the goosebumps beneath his lips and her body shivering in his hands are absolutely mind-numbing. He nuzzles the sensitive curve of her jaw until he feels the mild sting of her nails in his shoulder. His teeth drag－also lightly－over her racing pulse. “I love that about you,” he breathes.</p>
<p>Her nails scratch his scalp as she tugs him closer, wordlessly urging more of his usual rough enthusiasm. When he doesn’t comply fast enough, she sighs sharply and shoves him onto his back again, kneeling over him with fire in her eyes and impatience in her simple command.</p>
<p>“Show me how much.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. reconciliation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>Day 05 - Past</p>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On some nights, he isn’t himself.</p>
<p>Edelgard knows that isn’t strictly true－when he wakes thrashing and snarling from the throes of a deep nightmare, the rage strung taut in his limbs and the grief choking his voice are both his, both Dimitri. They are genuine, parts of him he’s locked away in a safer place but not destroyed. He is still himself, but for a few weak moments he loses control of the <i>him</i> that belongs in the past.</p>
<p>More than once, he’s lashed out at her during these incoherent moments.</p>
<p>The first time taught her to speak before she touched him.</p>
<p>The second time, she nearly blacked out beneath the hand around her throat before snatching the candlestick off the bedside table and smashing it over his head.</p>
<p>The third time took a while, since he refused to sleep beside her again for months after that.</p>
<p>For a long time Edelgard assumed the truth, but one morning over tea and an awkward silence, she finally asked.</p>
<p>“Do you think that perhaps deep down, you’re still bothered by me?”</p>
<p>The way his hand froze halfway to his cup was his answer.</p>
<p>“It’s not an accusation,” she said coolly. “Given the past, I understand it’s a very real possibility.”</p>
<p>“If that’s the case,” Dimitri replied slowly, “the fault is mine for holding onto those feelings, unintentionally or no.”</p>
<p>She frowned and regarded him over her folded hands. He was still so quick to put himself down. That sort of weakness had angered her once, but these days she sympathized with that way of thinking, even if she still didn’t quite understand it.</p>
<p>“To be honest, I would find it stranger if you didn’t have traces of a grudge,” she admitted. “Forgiving me isn’t the same as forgiving my actions. Making peace with me doesn’t mean you approve of them, either. People aren’t so simple that they can wipe out every negative emotion as they please.”</p>
<p>They can suppress them, hide them, but never erase them.</p>
<p>“All I’m saying is that I still don’t fault you for being human, Dimitri.” Her voice softened slightly. “Just as I refuse to blame you for what happened.”</p>
<p>It would be terribly hypocritical of her if she did.</p>
<p>Whether he was learning to control his demons or her words took root and had an effect, the third incident was less an incident and more a brief scare to them both. He bared his teeth and raised his voice, but that was the most his memories could get out of him.</p>
<p>That was a while ago. There are still nights when he’ll push her away or recoil at her touch, occasional mornings when the sound of her voice makes him tense. He’s getting better, but only time will tell if he’s able to shake off the past’s grip at last.</p>
<p>Sometimes Edelgard wonders, and sometimes she doubts. Each time she decides it ultimately doesn’t matter. If Dimitri is right and everyone must pay for their sins at some point, perhaps that occasional glimpse of utter loathing in his eye, followed by the weight of guilt and grief in his tired face, is part of her penance.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. duty and desire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>Day 05 (bonus) - Future</p>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“－at another time, Gustave.”</p>
<p>Edelgard looks up as the door to the council room opens. A glance is all she needs to determine that Dimitri is agitated despite his level tone, but his expression quickly shifts into one of surprise when he sees her. He stops mid-step and the man behind him nearly walks into him.</p>
<p>“With all due respect, ‘another time’ never seems to arrive.” At his shoulder is one of his knights－the Dominic patriarch, she recalls. He also notices her and responds with a quick, respectful bow before turning back to Dimitri, who’s recovered and making his way towards the head of the table.</p>
<p>“It will, once I have time to consider the matter with the attention it deserves. I’m sure you agree it can’t be rushed.”</p>
<p>“Four years is not rushing, Your Majesty.”</p>
<p>Edelgard returns her eyes to the papers stacked neatly in front of her. She can’t help overhearing, but she won’t stare.</p>
<p>On her left, Dimitri drops heavily into his chair and slaps his own papers onto the table. “I’m aware of its importance.”</p>
<p>Normally, that sort of remark said in that tone from the king would surely be an indication for the other party to step down. Gustave, however, who has always seemed to have Dimitri’s ear in a way very few others do, doesn’t take the hint.</p>
<p>“Are you?” he presses. “You are still very young, Your Majesty, but you aren’t getting any younger.” When Dimitri doesn’t respond, Gustave sighs. “I will leave you to your meeting. But please, give the matter some serious thought. You have no shortage of resources at your disposal, and it is not something you need to embark upon alone.”</p>
<p>Chancing a sidelong glimpse, Edelgard sees Dimitri open his mouth and then shut it just as quickly, as though literally biting back his words. In the end, he answers, “I will do so.”</p>
<p>Gustave looks unconvinced, but only bows to them both and excuses himself. Once the door closes behind him, the king and emperor are left in a mutually awkward silence.</p>
<p>“...You’re early,” Dimitri says at last.</p>
<p>For an instant she wavers, caught between ignoring the scene just now and addressing it, only to remind herself of whom she’s speaking to. “Political trouble?” she wonders. She already has an educated guess, but she leaves it vague enough that he can either answer or deflect the question comfortably.</p>
<p>He sets his elbows on the table, hands folded. “The Kingdom grows impatient for an heir.”</p>
<p>It comes as no surprise. “Four years,” she repeats thoughtfully. “It’s no wonder, unfortunately.”</p>
<p>She’s glad to have no such expectations in the Empire these days－not officially, at least－after the reformations she’s been working to incorporate. Even so, it’s a sort of pressure she understands all too well.</p>
<p>“I can’t exactly fault him, either,” Dimitri admits. “It is a problem of my own making, no doubt.”</p>
<p>“And what are your thoughts?”</p>
<p>It’s an issue they’ve been dancing around for a while now. He rubs at his mouth, sighs, and then shoots her an uncertain look.</p>
<p>“That I still don’t have your answer. And that I will continue to wait for it, whatever you decide.”</p>
<p>She holds the look. “So you haven’t changed your mind?”</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t certain, El.” He lies his arm on the table, his fingertips only inches shy of hers. “If it isn’t what you want, tell me, and I will move on.”</p>
<p>She narrowly bites back a bitter huff of laughter. <i>I will move on.</i> He makes it sound so simple, as if he hasn’t been waiting for her response for nearly three moons now.</p>
<p>“It isn’t only about what I want－”</p>
<p>“The politics don’t matter,” he interrupts, his stare as fierce as it is earnest. “We can make it work, even with－”</p>
<p>“It isn’t just the political ramifications, either,” she counters, her tone sharply dropping several degrees. Her fists clench as her heartbeat thuds in her ears. “If an heir is important, whether to the Kingdom’s agenda or your own desires, I can’t guarantee－”</p>
<p>The door opens again. They both straighten up as several knights enter the room, escorting the first of the council members to arrive for the meeting. Dimitri acknowledges their bows with a nod, and then amid the sounds of seats being filled, he murmurs aside to Edelgard,</p>
<p>“We’ll talk tonight.” The sympathy in his gaze suggests it’s meant to be a comforting promise, but the weight of anxiety and unease only grows heavier in her chest now that she’ll have all day to anticipate that discussion.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. an old face (and a friend)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>Day 06 - Masks</p>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Edelgard always brings her own handmaids to Faerghus.</p>
<p>Despite Dimitri swearing up and down by his castle’s staff, as well as her own positive experiences with most of his servants, it’s one less concern and fewer potential liabilities to worry about. She’s fond of her two maids, besides. They’re respectful without being timid, loyal but not presumptuous. They’re attentive, sharp, and know when to keep their heads down and when to keep their eyes and ears open. What began as stiff, obligated politeness towards Dimitri eventually warmed up to genuine respect as they observed their mistress’ favor of him. He, of course, treated them well from the start and eventually stopped making offers of supplying Edelgard with more servants during her visits.</p>
<p>So it comes as a surprise when he informs her by letter that she’ll have an additional attendant during her upcoming stay. He offers no explanation, merely a brief note before his signature. It isn’t an unreasonable gesture, given the nature of her next journey to Fhirdiad, but its abruptness strikes her as odd. Still, she tucks it away in the back of her mind for addressing later.</p>
<p>By the time she arrives in the bustling capital two weeks later, she’s forgotten about it entirely. It isn’t until the late morning after her arrival that the attendant comes calling to her quarters with a soft knock at the door.</p>
<p>When the handmaid lets her in, Edelgard freezes.</p>
<p>The woman in the doorway smiles, the expression so much brighter and heartfelt than the last time the two of them spoke.</p>
<p>“Hello, Edie.”</p>
<p>It takes Edelgard a couple beats to recover. “Dorothea?”</p>
<p>That smile grows, if possible, as if pleased that Edelgard remembers her name. “You look surprised. It seems Dimitri can keep a secret, after all.”</p>
<p>“...You? You’re the attendant he mentioned?”</p>
<p>Dorothea gives one of her airy laughs and it almost hurts how sharply familiar it is, a sudden and unbeckoned memory from a much simpler time long gone. “Well, if you’ll have me, that is. I thought this would be the kind of occasion where you can’t have too many hands on deck, you know?”</p>
<p>“I…” The buzz of shock finally clears enough for Edelgard to get a full sentence out. She clears her throat, trying to stifle the wistful nostalgia balling tight in her chest. “Well－yes. I suppose it is. If you came all this way, I certainly wouldn’t－”</p>
<p>Dorothea crosses the room in a few graceful strides, arms outstretched. Edelgard isn’t sure what gesture she’s expecting, but the embrace isn’t it. It’s warm and gentle and fond, tight without squeezing. It’s <i>friendly</i>. Not at all the gesture of someone who’s here reluctantly, or with festering ill will over the past.</p>
<p>Edelgard’s lack of immediate response doesn’t deter Dorothea’s enthusiasm in the slightest. She kisses the emperor’s hair and pulls back with an excited sigh, eyes bright as they look Edelgard over approvingly.</p>
<p>“You look as lovely as ever, Edie! Half the time I still picture you as that skinny little thing from our academy days, you know!” she teases. She takes Edelgard’s hands and gives them a squeeze. “Oh, but getting <i>married!</i> I’m thrilled for you!”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div><i>“Sooo,”</i> Dorothea presses half an hour later, grinning mischievously over her teacup, “which one of you proposed?”<p>Edelgard twists her lips with a short hum. It was inevitable that the conversation would head in that direction. “He did. But it wasn’t that surprising, honestly. I knew he wouldn’t be happy leaving things as they were.”</p>
<p>Dorothea’s eyebrows rise. “Political things, or personal?”</p>
<p>“...Personal,” Edelgard admits after a short pause, dropping her gaze.</p>
<p>“So it wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment political pitch? That seems to be the common opinion.”</p>
<p>“No. On the contrary, he thinks too much with his heart and not enough with his head. It’s one of his biggest flaws.”</p>
<p>Dorothea chuckles. “You haven’t changed at all, Edie.” After sipping at her drink a moment, she muses, “What about you?”</p>
<p>“What about me?”</p>
<p>“When you told him yes, were you thinking with your heart or your head?” When Edelgard hesitates, she quickly amends, “Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come off… I’m not judging you. I’m just... wondering if you’re happy.”</p>
<p>“It’s fine. No need to apologize. I’d be lying if I said I don’t have some concerns－politically speaking－but…” She takes up her own tea, but it’s a means of stalling.</p>
<p><i>Happy.</i> When was the last time she thought of herself as such? Even her trysts with Dimitri for the past two years have been riddled with uncertainty on her end, the bliss and adrenaline always draining away by the morning to leave her with the assumption that it couldn’t last. Her nights with him were a lot of things and they made her feel a lot of ways, but she’s not sure <i>happy</i> was ever her word of choice. Happiness, she thought, was something more permanent than what she felt.</p>
<p>But then there was the night she finally answered his proposal. At the time she was almost amused by how nervous he looked, touched by how vulnerable he appeared as he hung on her every word. And then his relieved smile, his emotional laugh, his strong arms and chaste kiss and his low voice promising her everything he had the power to give－</p>
<p>Catching Dorothea’s smirk, Edelgard realizes she’s smiling and quickly flattens the look from her face and clears her throat.</p>
<p>“Anyway,” she says quickly, trying to ignore the heat rising in her face. “You－ah－I’m sorry, you were saying?”</p>
<p>Dorothea waves dismissively, clearly amused. “Oh, don’t worry. I have my answer.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div>“Morning, Edie! Oh, you’re dressed already!”<p>Edelgard catches her cheerful smile in the mirror and nods. “I started the morning a little earlier than expected.” It isn’t a lie, even if it’s avoiding the truth somewhat. As grateful as she is for Dorothea’s assistance, she decided that only her maids will help her with actually getting dressed. Dimitri has helped her feel less self-conscious of her scars, but she’s in no rush to reveal them to anyone else, least of all today.</p>
<p>“Well, let me have a look!”</p>
<p>When Edelgard turns around, Dorothea’s hands fly to her mouth with a soft gasp. “You look <i>stunning!</i> Oh, I don’t know if I’m more jealous of you or Dimitri now…” She draws closer and begins circling her, studying the dress with its long sleeves and high collar with a curious eye and the occasional approving hum. “So you decided to go all-in on the Faerghus style, hmm? I suppose it’s fitting for the cold, but it doesn’t leave you much room for teasing the groom, does it?” She winks as she comes to stand in front of Edelgard again. “Then again, Dimitri does seem like the modest type. I’m sure he’ll be dying to get you out of it before the day’s over.” She leans over to fluff the skirt, either missing or ignoring the light flush in Edelgard’s cheeks－not an indication of embarrassment as much as the acknowledgement that she’s right.</p>
<p>From there, Dorothea essentially takes over preparing her hair and makeup. The change of pace from usually speaking with her maids is a welcome one; Dorothea doesn’t hesitate to direct the conversation or fill the silence when Edelgard doesn’t. Relinquishing that little bit of authority and just being able to listen, to only nod and occasionally comment without being mistaken for disinterested, is a relief. The constant chatter of her warm voice is comforting in itself, as are her respectful little gestures now and again, the playful squeeze of her hand or the reassuring touch on Edelgard’s arm. Edelgard realizes that while she’s grown used to having an ally and lover in Dimitri, it’s been years since she last had the company of a friend like this.</p>
<p>No, even back at the academy, it was never like this. She rarely put up with friendly chatter because she wanted to. It was always a social necessity, if just to blend in and avoid suspicion, not something she willingly sought out.</p>
<p>Edelgard wonders briefly if she’s changed that much, or if she’s just starved for that sort of thing after so many years of denying herself of it.</p>
<p>“I’m a bit… surprised, though,” Dorothea admits at one point. Her brow furrows thoughtfully, although her gaze doesn’t falter from where she’s carefully painting color over Edelgard’s eye. “Considering it’s not political, I wouldn’t have guessed Dimitri to be your type. You didn’t seem too fond of him when we were students.”</p>
<p>Edelgard manages not to wince. Even before her revolt, she wonders how much her disregard towards him must have stung. “I wasn’t. He was a stranger at the time, and I wasn’t looking for anyone in that way.”</p>
<p>When Dorothea doesn’t reply, Edelgard realizes she’s waiting for her to explain further.</p>
<p>“To be honest, I’m not even certain what my ‘type’ really is,” she confesses. “If you’d asked me before, I don’t know if I would have had a real answer.”</p>
<p>Someone who shares her ideals, of course. Someone she can depend on and work well with. Someone she trusts, which is perhaps the most difficult qualification, and hopefully someone she can truly be herself around, as unlikely as that always seemed to be.</p>
<p>Perhaps it’s a coincidence that such a description fits Dimitri to the letter, perhaps not. Whether she would have ever found another person with his patience and willingness to wait for her, who would eventually find the cracks in her defenses and slip through them so completely like he did, she can’t say. Whether by fate or sheer luck, she found someone she can bare herself to and be vulnerable around with no fear of judgment or backlash, someone she can be <i>El</i> with—and she found him not once, but twice.</p>
<p>She isn’t the type to dwell on what could have been, only what is and the hope of what could be. Even so, it hasn’t gone over her head that the odds of this day ever happening were almost impossibly low in hindsight.</p>
<p>“I suppose… we were simply in the right place at the right time,” she says at last. “We met during a crossroads in my life, and thanks to him, I knew what I needed to do. Who it was I needed to be.”</p>
<p>Finished, Dorothea sits back, but she studies Edelgard for a few thoughtful beats before smiling. It’s softer than her previous smiles, more personal. “That does sound like your kind of romance, Edie. I’m glad you found someone who actually deserves you, you know? You deserve that happy ending just as much as anyone.”</p>
<p>She winks and pats Edelgard’s knee as she climbs to her feet, her tone back to its usual cheerful. “So! Tell me what you think—and be honest! I want to make sure he can’t <i>stand</i> taking his eyes off you today.”</p>
<p>Edelgard allows herself to be guided over to the full-length mirror, where she admires Dorothea’s handiwork with approval. Despite the abundance of white, she worked in subtle accents of red in the makeup and selection of jewelry that come off elegant yet… soft, almost. Not in the weak sense of the word, but disarming and approachable. Less the ice cold emperor of renown and more the bare-faced, earnest sort of queen that a place like Faerghus needs.</p>
<p>She watches her painted lips quirk in an appreciative smile. “It’s very impressive, Dorothea. Thank you.”</p>
<p>Dorothea’s reflection beams at her. “It’s not like there was anything to improve, but I did my best,” she teases, making Edelgard shake her head. “Just make sure you smile at Dimitri like that. You’ll be irresistible.”</p>
<p>Her smile actually falters at that. Is it right for her to stand smiling before the people she once waged war on? When so many of them still bear her ill will, and will likely only tolerate her out of love for their king, does she have the right to admit her happiness in front of them? To smile as they look at her and remember their loved ones who no longer can?</p>
<p>It’s not as though slipping the mask back on will be difficult. Apathy was a practiced face even before the war; after it ended, it became her default. It was her only option against all the criticism and hostility and blame, her only means of appearing untouchable when her opponents sought a weakness. Even in private, it’s kept her from cracking most nights when the regret threatens to become too much.</p>
<p>Maybe it won’t be necessary one day. In the meantime, it’s enough knowing there’s at least one person she doesn’t need to hide from.</p>
<p>“Edie?”</p>
<p>“It’s nothing.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. for the future</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>Day 07 - Blood</p>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I want you to promise me something.”</p>
<p>It isn’t the best way to broach the subject, especially after ten minutes of mutual silence, and the light flinch in Dimitri’s shoulders says as much. Even so, direct is all Edelgard knows how to be. She doesn’t relieve him of her heavy stare, or even pause before continuing,</p>
<p>“If it comes to a choice, and I’m unable to make it myself at that time, I’m trusting it to you.”</p>
<p>He looks away. His hands tighten on the arms of his chair and she can’t tell if the low <i>snap</i> is the wood splitting or the crackle of the fireplace.</p>
<p>“Dimitri.” Her voice is calm.</p>
<p>“I can’t－” He winces. “El…”</p>
<p>She gives him a moment to absorb it, although she can’t imagine he’s surprised. He must have suspected ever since their consultation with the doctor and midwife this morning. Either he’s been in denial since then, or his refusal to bring up the matter himself was merely respecting her right to do so on her own time. Edelgard suspects it’s a bit of both.</p>
<p>When his stricken silence stretches on, she breaks it again, her voice softer than before. “I’ll give them the order myself before then. But when it comes down to it, they’ll look to you for authority. I’ll need you to carry through.”</p>
<p>He breathes out sharply. Even with his blind eye to her, his face is contorted with so much pain that her chest aches.</p>
<p>With practiced care, Edelgard pushes herself to her feet. She crosses the short distance between them and nudges his legs further apart with her knee, giving her room to slide onto his lap. He moves reflexively to hold her there, his grip light but secure. He still doesn’t turn to her, even when she rests her palm on his warm chest.</p>
<p>“Dimitri,” she says, very quietly, “look at me.” </p>
<p>It looks like it takes him even more strength than what his Crest can muster to meet her gaze again, but he does.</p>
<p>For a moment she simply stares at him, studying the sorrow in his eye, the familiar lines in his face. Everything in her wants to look away, too, and avoid the heartache that’s so painfully clear in his expression, but she forces herself to hold fast.</p>
<p>“We talked about this before we married,” she reminds him. “I’ve always suspected that having children would be impossible for me. I don’t know if I expressed it fully at the time, but when I learned I was with child－” She shakes her head with a weak smile, as if that will stop her eyes from stinging. Her tone remains steady. “I’d never felt such...”</p>
<p>Happiness? Excitement? No, neither of those fits.</p>
<p>“—<i>joy</i>,” she decides, “as I did then.” She knows he felt the same, just like she knows he would be saying the same thing as she were their roles reversed. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything, and I don’t regret it.”</p>
<p>Dimitri winces again, but he doesn’t look away. Edelgard reads the gesture for what it is, the reassurance that he doesn’t regret it, either. He surely hates himself more for it, but he doesn’t regret. He wouldn’t undo this life they've created even if he could.</p>
<p>She predicted as much, but it’s comforting to see all the same.</p>
<p>“I chose this path knowing full well what the risks could be. It isn’t up to anyone else—not even you—to decide where that path leads me from here. That’s my decision.”</p>
<p>His gaze lowers, but only slightly. As conflicted as the look is, there’s something thoughtful in it, too. He’s listening.</p>
<p>“That’s why I want you to promise me,” she repeats. “If you’re given the choice, I need to know you won’t waver.”</p>
<p>Another sigh escapes him, long and slow and soft. The grief clinging to him has always made him look a little older than his years, but now he seems to age before her eyes.</p>
<p>Even now, years after his reconciliation with himself and his sins, fate continues to be unfathomably cruel to him. She knows very well how deeply and severely his soft heart still aches for every loss in his life. Being forced to choose between one and another… If Edelgard still believed in the Goddess, she would curse and spite her in all manner of blasphemy that she could think of for this cruel hand they’ve been dealt.</p>
<p>But there is no one to blame or pray to for mercy, no authority higher than his own for Dimitri to turn to.</p>
<p>His hand shifts slowly from her thigh to her swollen belly nestled between them, his scarred fingers caressing over her gown with the utmost care.</p>
<p>“I would never force you to do anything, El,” he says at last, softly. “Your path is your own.”</p>
<p>“You know my fears. And you know death isn’t one of them.”</p>
<p>Dimitri nods stiffly. “I do.”</p>
<p>“You should also know that I’ll fight with all my strength until the very end. Nothing is certain.”</p>
<p>A ghost of a smile tugs briefly at his mouth, grim and wistful. “Yes. I do.”</p>
<p>She already knows his answer, but she needs to hear it.</p>
<p>“Dimitri.” The word is a whisper, a plea.</p>
<p>His hand covers hers, gripping as tightly as he dares. She grasps back, trying to still the tremble in his skin.</p>
<p>“I swear to you,” he says steadily, “our child comes first.”</p>
<p>Edelgard smiles. It’s small and sad and it hurts to make it, but he needs to see her gratitude, her relief, her affection. The tension in her arms melts. She leans her forehead against his shoulder and lets her eyes close, suddenly feeling more exhausted than she has in years.</p>
<p>Dimitri’s only response is to hold her closer and bury his face against her, rubbing her back soothingly as though she’s the one in need of comfort.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. in a different light</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>Day 08 - Light</p>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At the start, Felix had no definitive opinion of the Emperor.</p>
<p>It was no surprise that the King chose to spare her in Enbarr. Dimitri has a history of unwise decisions made on passion, after all, whether that passion was blind rage or his soft heart or some messy mix of both. Felix certainly didn’t trust her—the end of the war didn’t mean the end of her potential as a threat—but for the first time in years he was willing to take Dimitri at face value. When his friend claimed sparing her life was the best course of action, Felix didn’t give his approval, but he didn’t object, either. He only reminded Dimitri that he was, henceforth, as responsible for her actions as she was.</p>
<p>His lukewarm opinion remained much the same for a while after that. As preoccupied as he was with his own territory for a while, news of the ongoings in the capital reached him primarily by letter. These often came from Dimitri himself, who kept his childhood friends up to date as well as he was able despite the distance that was usually between the four of them. In this way, they were among the first to know when he and the Emperor reached a point of agreement at long last, when she would be officially discharged and permitted to return to Adrestia, and the first of the details on how the two nations would proceed in the future.</p>
<p>“What do you think?” Sylvain asked him days later, when their envoys met up on the road to Fhirdiad. “His Majesty sounds pretty confident, doesn’t he?”</p>
<p>“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Felix grunted. “It’s clear that he trusts her. That’s enough for him to do whatever he damn well pleases.”</p>
<p>“Sooo… in other words, <i>you</i> trust <i>him</i> and you’re not worried.”</p>
<p>“Who asked you?”</p>
<p>Sylvain laughed and put a hand up defensively. “Okay, okay.”</p>
<p>“Besides, you know he wouldn’t budge an inch without asking the archbishop for his opinion first. If nothing else, there was <i>some</i> objectivity in his decision.”</p>
<p>Sylvain looked thoughtful for a moment, but offered no response other than his usual glib smile.</p>
<p>Felix’s interactions with the Emperor were few, usually restricted to when the king journeyed to Adrestia and his three friends accompanied him—as representatives, but also as security. The Emperor seemed unchanged, a woman of few words and fewer expressions but a demanding and confident presence whenever she did speak. With the way Dimitri spoke of and looked at her, one would think her countenance to be warm and welcoming rather than cold and aloof.</p>
<p>Sylvain also noticed.</p>
<p>“He’s got a soft spot for her, doesn’t he?”</p>
<p>Felix didn’t look over from his corner of the sitting room. “No shit.”</p>
<p>“I mean… more than we thought.”</p>
<p>“ ‘We?’ ” Ingrid echoed from her couch. Her tone wasn’t as skeptical as Felix’s, but it was obvious she shared the sentiment.</p>
<p>“Well—” Sylvain appeared to choose his words. “It’s obvious he was lenient before because of their history, right? Anyone would want to be, if it was an old friend at stake.”</p>
<p>“Naturally,” Ingrid agreed with a nod. After a moment she closed her book and eyed him uncertainly. “What are you getting at?”</p>
<p>“I’m just—<i>saying</i>—” he answered slowly, with a sidestep that put him out of her reach, “—that maybe there’s more to it than that.”</p>
<p>Felix scowled. “You’re out of your mind.”</p>
<p>“What?” Ingrid glanced between them. “What are you saying?”</p>
<p>Perching his fists against the back of the couch, Sylvain shot Felix a look. “Oh, come on, Felix. You’re telling me there’s never been a girl you—” He stopped as Felix’s stony expression and hard glare dared him to finish whatever idiotic question was on the tip of his tongue. With a stifled sigh he abruptly turned to Ingrid instead. “Come on, Ingrid, you’re telling me you’ve never had a guy you couldn’t keep your eyes off of? Someone who could keep your attention with every little thing he said and did? Someone you might…” He spread his hands as though in thought. “...go the extra mile for, even if everyone else was against you?”</p>
<p>She stared a moment more before looking away with a mild flush in her cheeks. “What are you blabbering on about? That has nothing to do with Their Majesties.”</p>
<p>“Doesn’t it?”</p>
<p>Felix glanced over and watched as Ingrid considered that, the gears in her head all but audible as they turned. Something clicked and her expression darkened.</p>
<p>“...You’re absolutely deplorable, Sylvain.”</p>
<p>“I’m just—”</p>
<p>“His Majesty said they’re <i>family</i>, didn’t he? Not everyone’s as—as indecently opportunistic as you!”</p>
<p>They were only family by some design of technicality, Felix thought, and much stranger things had occurred in society, especially among the elite. But he kept that to himself, reluctant to feed Sylvain’s stupidity.</p>
<p>Nearly two years later, the three of them were among the first to receive news of the king’s engagement. Sylvain, the cheeky bastard, actually sent express messengers to deliver Felix and Ingrid matching letters by that evening that simply read <i>Told you.</i></p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div>Felix never pressed Dimitri for his reasoning. Whether it was personal (most likely) or stemmed from the political advantage (doubtful, unless it protected the Emperor in some way), or both, Felix’s only concern was the assurance that his monarch wasn’t acting rashly or getting in over his head.<p>The next time they met, he asked as much.</p>
<p>“You honestly have no doubts?” It was an earnest question despite the skeptical look on his face. Dimitri met both with his usual easy patience and answered with nothing short of full conviction.</p>
<p>“I don’t.”</p>
<p>Felix forced himself to meet and hold his gaze for a few beats, searching for even a hint of contradiction. He found none and quickly looked away again.</p>
<p>“Fine. I just hope you both know what you’re getting yourselves into, if your council’s reaction was any indication.”</p>
<p>“We’re well aware.” Dimitri nodded with a smile. “We intend to go about this as delicately as possible. But thank you for your concern, Felix.”</p>
<p>“Don’t make it sound so personal,” Felix snapped. “If she stabs you in the back or the Kingdom tears itself apart over this, people like me will be the ones cleaning up after you. My only <i>concern</i> is that you’re not thinking with your head.”</p>
<p>Dimitri’s stupid smile grew and he looked like he was holding back a laugh. “Of course. Thank you all the same.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div>The mixed public response to the Blaiddyd-Hresvelg union was about what Felix predicted. There were those intent on the political and monetary benefits, as well as the diehard and trusting followers of the king, who saw no issue. There were those who grumbled lukewarm objections but feared speaking up outright, or talked big but kept their heads down with no intention of actually doing anything about it. And then there were the rumors of more vehement objections, although none of the knights’ investigations found anything solid or worth worrying over.<p>The wedding came and went with plenty of murmuring but no incidents.</p>
<p>The King and Emperor-Queen didn’t take long to schedule a ride through Faerghus, a gesture of goodwill towards both the nobles she had yet to meet as well as the common folk who would never see her face otherwise, in addition to familiarizing her with the territories more directly than what maps could offer. Felix was one of their many escorts, but he kept silent for most of it unless prompted by Dimitri when they traveled through Fraldarius territory. The first week went as smoothly as hoped.</p>
<p>Whether it had been impossible to hire a proper assassin stupid enough to target one of the most dangerous people on the continent and earn the rage of the other, or their grudge against the Emperor simply ran deep enough to throw away their lives, a group of anti-imperial fanatics struck. Or they would have, if she hadn’t been counting on it.</p>
<p>In truth, the tour had another purpose: her desire to drag the enemies of the crown into the light by giving them a shot at her open back that they wouldn’t be able to resist. Only later would Dimitri confide in Felix how reluctant he had been to go along with it, how worried he was for her safety, and how she had finally convinced him by pointing out that it was a problem to be dealt with as quickly as possible, rather than allowing it to grow and fester and potentially catch innocents in the crossfire later.</p>
<p>The night before they were to depart from the capital, the Emperor spoke to the company at large.</p>
<p>“Based on what information we’ve gathered, I find it likely that the group will strike with little concern for their own safety, which suggests a public place where they would have easiest access to me, such as a crowd. I think it highly probable that they would avoid contact with His Majesty, if possible—they seek retribution, not anarchy, and would not want to risk harming him. If nothing else, his reputation will make them reluctant to strike where he might see them and act first.”</p>
<p>She glanced sideways at Dimitri, who stood frowning with arms crossed but made no objection.</p>
<p>“I would like to minimize all risk to bystanders as much as possible,” she went on, “while still forcing them to reveal their hand. For this reason, we’ve sent word ahead to each of the towns and cities that I desire to offer prayers inside each church in the region, and that I will do so alone.”</p>
<p>“Do you think that trap will be believable?” Felix asked. “You also have a reputation when it comes to your relationship with the Church.”</p>
<p>The Emperor gave a slight nod. “I think that will entice them all the more, actually. If their vengeance is rooted in the faith, they will likely be insulted by my hypocrisy, and I doubt they will have much issue spilling blood even before the altar.” Something like grim amusement flashed across her eyes. “If they have no regard for religion, then in their eyes there is nothing wrong with assassinating someone on sacred ground. Either way, my actions will likely be seen merely as a formality, and should give little reason for suspicion.”</p>
<p>It made sense, the company agreed, even though most shared Dimitri’s cautious reluctance compared to the Emperor’s bold rashness.</p>
<p>After the meeting ended, she approached Felix. “Lord Fraldarius. If you have no objections, I ask that you accompany me when I enter the churches. Not as a bodyguard,” she added, catching the curiosity in his expression, “but because you’re observant. I need someone who can watch for any telling behavior and analyze the area as quickly as possible. Do you feel you are up to this task?”</p>
<p>He stole a glimpse at Dimitri, whose face gave nothing away. Had he recommended Felix? Or was the Emperor that observant herself?</p>
<p>“I am,” he answered.</p>
<p>She nodded again. “We do have informants investigating the places prior, of course, but I’d like someone quick at my back, just in case. You have my thanks.”</p>
<p>“You really are fit for each other,” Felix muttered to Dimitri afterwards. “She’s as mad as you are.”</p>
<p>She was just as brutal, too.</p>
<p>When the day came, Felix accompanied her only as far as the church doors, as commanded, and then stationed himself near the entrance as she proceeded onward. The distance between himself and the altar at which she knelt probably gave the impression he couldn’t reach her in time to help her, just as the light gown she was wearing probably fooled onlookers into thinking she wasn’t armed.</p>
<p>And then two figures slipped out of the shadows—one from the far right corner and the other from behind a curtain beyond the altar, just as Felix predicted—and while he closed half the distance in an instant, it wasn’t needed. Where the Emperor pulled that dagger from, even he couldn’t tell, but in the blink of an eye it was buried in the throat of the attacker who reached her first. The other stabbed at her back but the blade only found air; the man was on his back probably before he even realized it, her knee in his gut tearing away the breath needed for him to scream as she wrenched his arm with a <i>snap</i> and his knife went skittering across the floor. Her elbow to his temple knocked him out cold. The other man’s gurgling abruptly ceased as he also went still.</p>
<p>She had said to take the enemy alive, but clearly she thought only one was necessary.</p>
<p>She nodded at Felix as she stood, acknowledgement or gratitude or both. She didn’t look even slightly fazed. “Let’s make sure this stays quiet,” she told him. “Survey the crowd when we leave for any suspicious reactions. With luck we’ll find all of them holed up near here.”</p>
<p>He answered with a shallow bow as she strode past, and then quickly fell into step behind her.</p>
<p>When they stepped outside, several knights hurried past them at her subtle gesture to retrieve the prisoner and the corpse. Even as Felix searched the crowd, in the corner of his eye he was aware of Dimitri receiving the Emperor with a sigh and a smile. The gentle but collected expression she typically reserved for him was all she had to show for her mild trouble just now.</p>
<p>Peace had clearly not made her complacent, and courtship had not made her soft.</p>
<p>It would be a stretch to say Felix became fond of her that day, but his respect went from the obligation due a powerful enemy to that of a willing supporter. In hindsight, it was easy to see why so many had put their faith in her and staked their very lives on the potential of her ambition.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div>The firstborn child of the King and Queen was also their last.<p>Felix was one of very few privy to the truth: the Queen’s health was weaker than her disposition suggested and, despite having the best doctors and healers on hand at the time, the birth was a complicated process that jeopardized her life. The infant, a son, was born strong and healthy, but the mother’s survival was a narrow toss-up that required staff at her bedside for hours afterward.</p>
<p>A full day later, she was pronounced stable and expected to make a full recovery.</p>
<p>The first time Felix met the child, the normally respectable King was practically beside himself as he introduced them, so proud and doting of that tiny bundle of blankets that Felix was embarrassed <i>for</i> him rather than sharing in Ingrid’s level of giddy, awestruck excitement.</p>
<p>More notably, that was the first time Felix saw the Queen smile—<i>really</i> smile, rather than an amused quirk of her lips or a subtle exchange of expression with her husband at the council table. He hadn’t known her face could soften the way it did when she looked at her son or up at Dimitri, who stood protectively over them both at her side.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div>It’s tradition in Faerghus to test an infant for Crests at birth. Major Crests tend to show results immediately, while Minor Crests typically don’t manifest until later, often warranting a second test around the child’s first birthday. In both cases, the sole Blaiddyd heir proved Crestless.<p>Predictably, Dimitri couldn’t have cared less, and naturally there was no way he would risk the Queen’s health trying for a second child, so it came as no surprise to Felix that one year, two years, three years passed with no announcement of a second pregnancy, nor any word on whether the royal couple was hoping for one. If they faced any unwanted advice on the subject—and Felix, possessing his fair share of common sense, was certain they did—Dimitri never mentioned it to him.</p>
<p>Neither did it sway their plans for Fodlan, which had already been tried and tested under the harsh fire of criticism from all sides. They had, after all, settled their differences after the war at least partially by dividing their regions according to their ideals—Adrestia was being readjusted from the ground up, the old system effectively dismantled in favor of one that claimed to honor ability and merit over status and bloodline. The idea was that anyone could start anew in the Empire with nothing to their name and build their way up with hard work. In contrast, Faerghus—which now included the Alliance territories—would continue to stand with the old ways as its foundation while attempting to incorporate Dimitri’s changes, bit by bit, until it hopefully produced a Kingdom that respected and preserved Crests without worshipping them and valuing them over the people. No definitive changes had been made just yet, but Dimitri had spoken with his advisors, Felix included, at length regarding ways in which the population at large might have some sway in political matters, and he seemed hellbent on making it a reality during his lifetime.</p>
<p>Both methods struck Felix as highly idealistic, but only time would tell whose, if any, would succeed.</p>
<p>The heir’s lack of a Crest was likewise a hot topic of discussion, perhaps even more so thanks to Fodlan’s new social and political climate, but no word reached Felix of any actual conflict regarding the matter. For a while he started to think that maybe the Savior King and Emperor-Queen were actually seeing some success with the reconciliation of their ideals.</p>
<p>And then came the King’s thirtieth birthday celebration, at which Felix was present to overhear the carriage-wreck that was a noble—a count and one of Dimitri’s inherited advisors, no less—having too much to drink and speaking a little too freely late in the evening.</p>
<p>“I do, of course, respect your selfless decision in considering the Queen’s health, Your Majesty, but—if I may say so, I don’t believe you would be at <i>all</i> remiss to consider an… alternative, you know. Why, with Adrestia the way it is now, there is no shortage of maidens of honorable lineage seeking a station in Faerghus. Of course, I’m well aware you have your own notable connections—you were close comrades with the heirs of the Galatea and Dominic Houses during the war, were you not? I imagine they would—”</p>
<p>Felix slammed his glass on the table and started to rise, only for Dimitri, who stood behind him, to catch the back of his chair in a steady hand and stop him without so much as glancing over. Turning his head, Felix found the King to be wearing an expression that could hardly hope to pass for a smile with that forced, rigid upturn of his lips.</p>
<p>“Your opinion is duly noted. But if I may—” He set down his own glass and Felix didn’t doubt for a second that it was to avoid shattering it in his agitation. “—if Adrestia’s climate is so valuable, I see no reason for you to deny yourself the chance to see it personally. In fact, I recommend it.”</p>
<p>The guests nearby had caught wind of the conversation, or perhaps just his stiff tone, and the murmur of voices quieted.</p>
<p>The count looked as though he was sobering up quickly as he considered the King’s words. “...Ah. Aha—you jest, Your Majesty.”</p>
<p>“I do not.” Dimitri’s pseudo-smile sharpened. “I’ve actually been intending to relocate a local advisor to the Empire. I think a man of your wealth and knowledge would have no problem adjusting there. I’m also aware you’re a widower—my condolences—so perhaps you yourself may benefit from investigating the <i>eligibility</i> of the populace.”</p>
<p>The drunken flush in the man’s cheeks went pale. Catching Felix’s gaze, Dimitri broke into a more natural smile and his tone warmed as though just noticing him for the first time. “Ah, Felix!” He turned away from the stuttering, blubbering noble and nodded at his friend. “Are you free after this? I think I’ll need some fresh air soon.”</p>
<p>The invitation was a clear one: he was looking to work out his thinly veiled irritation with some sparring. Felix answered with a small nod and a glimpse of a pleased smile. As sympathetic as he felt towards Dimitri’s plight, he enjoyed helping him vent his frustrations. It was the only time Dimitri let himself go all out.</p>
<p>Weeks later, Felix caught word that the miserable count had been discharged as an advisor. Whether the man was actually forced to relocate to Adrestia, he never found out, but apparently no one ever suggested again to Dimitri’s face that he take a concubine.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div>“<i>Felix,</i> you’re being too rough!”<p>He glanced over at where Dorothea stood on the edge of the training grounds, frowning in his direction. At his feet, the young boy who’d been knocked to the ground quickly picked himself up and dusted the dirt from his clothes.</p>
<p>“He isn’t! He’s showing me new techniques!”</p>
<p>Dorothea’s expression instantly softened into a smile. “And you’re doing so well, Aiden! But let’s take care of those bruises before your parents worry, mmkay?”</p>
<p>Snatching up his wooden sword, the boy bolted towards her and she scooped him up with a playful twirl before carrying him over to the bench for a quick round of healing magic.</p>
<p>Felix huffed and made his way over at a slower pace. Dorothea probably coddled the prince more than his parents did; if possible, she might have been even more protective of him than Dimitri, although that was debatable. At least Dimitri understood that the kid could take a tumble without needing to be fussed over.</p>
<p>Right on cue with that thought, Felix noticed movement on the wall above. He glanced up to see the King and Queen walking arm-in-arm and observing the scene.</p>
<p>The similarities between parents and child were even more striking when comparing them directly. At a glance, Aiden looked almost exactly like what Felix remembered of Dimitri at that age, golden hair and gangly limbs that he was constantly tripping over. Upon closer inspection, it was obvious he carried much of his mother in him, too: lilac eyes, a round face, and a small nose.</p>
<p>Dorothea set the boy back on his feet in no time at all, beaming at him brightly. “There you go, Your Highness!” He giggled as she ruffled his hair. “And look! There’s your mama and papa now!”</p>
<p>Felix took the opposite side of the bench as Aiden hurried for the stairs, his short figure quickly disappearing from view until Dimitri hoisted him into the air a moment later. Dorothea chuckled.</p>
<p>“You can already tell he’ll grow up to be a good man,” she mused. Felix made no comment. She appeared to study him in a sidelong look for a few beats before observing, “You look happier, you know.”</p>
<p>His head whipped towards her questioningly. There was something teasing in her smile, or perhaps even challenging. He took the bait. “What?”</p>
<p>“When you look at those two. You’re not <i>smiling</i>—” There was something mildly exasperated and almost Sylvain-ish in the way she tilted her head and lifted her eyebrows, as though indicating this was nothing new. “—but I remember thinking you used to look at Edie as though… Well, not like some people do, but you always looked kind of tense. Like you were ready to jump in and protect Dimitri, I think.”</p>
<p>He glowered and rotated his training sword in his hands distractedly. “He doesn’t need protecting. Sometimes he just needs someone to help keep his head on straight.”</p>
<p>“Is that what you did?” It sounded like a genuine question. Felix glanced at her, then back up at the couple.</p>
<p>“No. I never told him one way or the other when it came to her, and he never asked.”</p>
<p>She hummed thoughtfully as she followed his gaze. “That doesn’t seem like something an advisor would do.”</p>
<p>“I’m an advisor, not his father,” he snapped.</p>
<p>“So… you trust him.”</p>
<p>He nearly growled. “So what if I do?”</p>
<p>Dorothea laughed. That, too, sounded genuine, which was more puzzling than if she’d been mocking him. “Talking about anything personal is like pulling teeth with you, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>“If you knew that, why did you bother?”</p>
<p>She shook her head with a prim sigh. “Anyway—I think it’s nice. You and Dimitri go pretty far back, right? It’s just… good to know there was someone close to him who wasn’t trying to throw Edie to the wolves.”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t just me,” he said with a mild shrug. “There were a few others. I’m sure you heard that anyone too vocal was discharged from their positions.”</p>
<p>“Yes, and I’m sure the rest kept their mouths shut after that only because they were worried about their status. Not you, though.”</p>
<p>He grunted noncommittally. Why were they talking about this? “I told you before, I can’t stand people who only care about appearances.”</p>
<p>Dorothea nodded patiently. “Neither can Edie. That’s what I’m saying—I think your respect means a lot to her, even if she doesn’t show it. And I’m sure she doesn’t, most of the time.”</p>
<p>That wasn’t surprising to hear. Everyone knew how closely the Queen kept her thoughts and feelings to herself, the polar opposite of Dimitri in many ways.</p>
<p>He shrugged again. He didn’t really care what she or anyone else thought of him personally at the end of the day. Even so, Dorothea’s praise for standing by his lord and lady out of loyalty despite any personal misgivings...</p>
<p>It seemed like the sort of thing his father would have commended him for, as well.</p>
<p>The thought came unbidden before he could shove it away. He felt the corners of his mouth soften slightly.</p>
<p>“Felix?” Dorothea had noticed. The concern in her voice irritated him and he quickly stood up.</p>
<p>“You cost me my sparring partner.” He picked up the sword Aiden had left and tossed it to her. Despite the surprise on her face, she caught it easily. “Come on.”</p>
<p>Her expression smoothed over into something skeptical, and then simple resignation as she sighed. “There really are only two moods with you, aren’t there?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. broken together</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>Day 09 - Free day</p>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dimitri wakes alone, no warmth at his back or in his arms, and for a moment the darkness spikes his confusion into panic. He scrambles upright and squints, his breath and his heartbeat loud in the silence as he waits for his vision to adjust. After some agonizing moments, it finally does and he finds the signs he seeks: her robe hanging from the bedpost, her half of the blankets pushed back. She’s gone, but she <i>was</i> here. His memories are real, not just the figments of a fading dream.</p>
<p>He slips his hand beneath her pillow until his fingers brush the dagger she keeps there at night. He lets out the breath he’s holding.</p>
<p>There’s neither light nor sound coming from the washroom, so he can guess where she might be. After tugging on a shirt and trousers, he plucks her robe from its place, hangs it over his arm, and heads into the corridor.</p>
<p>She didn’t take a candle, but she’s easy to spot against the moonlight spilling from the next room over.</p>
<p>He makes no effort to muffle his footsteps, but Edelgard doesn’t react as he approaches. She stands with her back straight and arms crossed, her distant gaze fixed on where the door is slightly ajar.</p>
<p>Dimitri drapes the robe around her shoulders. “He’s safe, El,” he whispers. In case she needs to <i>hear</i> it.</p>
<p>Other than a small nod, she doesn’t budge.</p>
<p>His hands touch her waist. When she doesn’t pull away on startled reflex, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her gently to his chest, sighing softly against her neck. Her skin is freezing.</p>
<p>“It’s over. They’re gone.” He rubs her sides and feels her relax slightly. “There’s nothing to worry about anymore.”</p>
<p>It’s probably a hollow comfort. She may well spend the rest of her life wary of the dark and suspicious of the shadows, fearing those she can’t see. He doesn’t blame her.</p>
<p>But for now, it seems, his words are enough. She leans into him, trusting her weight to him as she lets out a hollow-sounding breath.</p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
<p>There’s a vein of frustration in her tone that he knows all too well. He kisses the top of her head.</p>
<p>“You haven’t gone mad,” he promises her. “You’re a mother. It’s natural for you to worry.”</p>
<p>She shakes her head lightly, but doesn’t reply. She only closes the door with barely a sound, and then turns around to press her face into his chest. Even through his shirt, her nose is cold.</p>
<p>“Shall I fix some tea?” he offers. It’s a ritual of theirs by now, when nightmares wake one or both of them, to head down to the kitchens for a calming drink, sometimes a talk.</p>
<p>“...No. Let’s go back to bed, Dimitri.”</p>
<p>He kisses her hair again, and then leans down to slip his arms behind her and scoop her up off her feet. At the arch of her eyebrow, he just smiles. She mirrors it and rests her head on his shoulder.</p>
<p>When he starts to set her down in their bed, Edelgard grasps his sleeves. “Stay like this,” she implores quietly. He obliges, sitting down with his back against the headboard and cradling her with one arm.</p>
<p>She’s silent for a while. He waits, knowing she’ll speak without prompting, if she decides to speak at all. Waiting has always been the hardest part. Even now, years after deciding to put her life and her future in his hands, there are times she hesitates. She’s assured him it has nothing to do with trust, but with her reluctance to expose herself. To be vulnerable.</p>
<p>He’s seen her vulnerable often enough that he believes her. For someone so headstrong and fierce, who became that way because she <i>needed</i> to, lowering her guard isn’t easy. It was a difficult concept for him to grasp at first, considering how often and easily he speaks his mind and bares his own feelings to her, but the culmination of nights like these for years now have helped him understand.</p>
<p>It’s not about trust. It’s about shame and fear and years of damage that she has yet to work through.</p>
<p>He understands that <i>very</i> well.</p>
<p>Some time after Dimitri leans his head back and allows himself to doze a little, Edelgard stirs.</p>
<p>“I doubt this is the sort of future you imagined when you proposed to the Emperor of Adrestia.”</p>
<p>He lifts his head as she sits up, settling in his lap proper. There’s a mild smile on her face, but it’s worn and distant.</p>
<p>“I proposed to Edelgard, not the Emperor.” He sweeps her hair back from her shoulders carefully. “But back then I had a difficult time thinking about anything other than your answer. You left me waiting three months, if I recall.”</p>
<p>Her smile quirks, a little more genuine than before. “I gave you plenty of time and every excuse to come to your senses. You’ve no one to blame but yourself.”</p>
<p>Chuckling, he loops his arms around her loosely and holds her closer. “If I could go back, I would tell my past self to wait three years if he had to.”</p>
<p>She exhales sharply, not quite a laugh but close enough. “If you’d had such a flattering way with words at the time, perhaps I would have accepted sooner.”</p>
<p>Catching the uncertainty in his expression, she quickly drops her teasing look. “I’m only joking, Dimitri.” She runs a hand over his hair with a touch as gentle as her tone. “You weren’t the reason I hesitated. It was everything <i>but</i> you, honestly.”</p>
<p>That simple reassurance is enough to soothe him. He nuzzles her cheek and murmurs fondly, “I do find that easier to believe than the idea of you being soft to flattery.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think you know <i>how</i> to flatter. You’re too honest.” Despite the vein of skepticism, it’s clear she means it as a compliment.</p>
<p>“In that case, shall I make some honest observations?” His lips graze the top of her ear, her temple, before pressing more definitively against her cheek. “About how strong you are… how magnificently you’ve been ruling at my side…” He kisses slowly along the curve of her jaw, tracing the path to her mouth. “And how unstoppable... and amazing... you were in keeping our family safe.”</p>
<p>She meets his kiss with equal tenderness, soft and lingering as her fingers begin threading through his hair. She hums when they finally part. “Perhaps you really are trying to flatter me.”</p>
<p>“I’m only telling you what we both already know.” He makes his way down her throat in gentle nudges and lazy kisses. Her grip on his hair tightens. “I thought you might like the reminder.”</p>
<p>“Now you’re just trying to seduce me,” she mutters.</p>
<p>He sucks lightly on the quickened pulse in her neck. When she pulls him closer with a hitch in her breath, his lips tug a little harder, enough to mark her pale skin.</p>
<p>Edelgard sighs, but it’s more pleased than exasperated like she probably intends. “It’s working,” she informs him.</p>
<p>He rolls them over with care and a warm laugh, already slipping the straps of her gown over her shoulders.</p>
<p>A half hour later she relaxes underneath him with a satisfied hum, her small pants music to his ears. He drops down to his forearms to pepper kisses across her hot back, and then does so more gently as he grazes the bite marks left along her shoulders.</p>
<p>“You’re so beautiful, El.” He lets her have his weight a little at a time, gradually pinning her against the bed. Despite her size, or perhaps because of it, she’s never shied away from taking all of him, in any and every way she can. Her small shiver as he settles atop her completely threatens to stir his blood anew. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted. Just as you are.” He nips her ear and her grip on his hands tightens.</p>
<p>Gradually, Dimitri’s ministrations grow smaller until he finally falls still, nestled against her neck. The cool air of their bedroom feels good on his hot skin, but when Edelgard eventually shifts, he knows she’s already grown cold again. He stretches out beside her and pulls the blankets over them both, hugging her close when she rolls over to face him.</p>
<p>Nights like these can go both ways. Tonight, it’s her, but tomorrow it might be him—tomorrow he might need the reassurance, the words and the gestures and the reminders. He might need her to hold his hand while talking over tea, to make love to him, or anything in between, something to pull him back together when the past comes calling to tear him apart.</p>
<p>And if he does, he knows she’ll be there without fail.</p>
<p>Tomorrow might be a particularly bad night. They might both be in pieces, broken together and stumbling, but Dimitri doesn’t worry about that tonight. Sometimes when they break and all the pieces can’t be found, they have to share the ones they have.</p>
<p>Sometimes they’re each only half of a whole.</p>
<p>Together, it’s enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>many thanks to those who organized Dimigard Week!! it was so fun participating and I really appreciated the good selection of prompts! c: also thanks to everyone who read this far, and to those who provided this small fanbase with so much good food for the past week. this good ship deserves it and it was great seeing the community love for them come together like this. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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